Country roads.

I was walking around a country road in Pennsylvania with large economy size dog Tralfaz when I noticed something that made me curious.

I couldn't figure out why the intersection up ahead was supposed to be dangerous. I'd been there before. It's a two-way stop with pretty good visibility in either direction. To your right is a downward slope, but it seems to me that only pea-soup fog, exceptionally bad ice, or the Dukes of Hazzard driving up the hill would make it dangerous.

I wondered if the sign was just a means of the local highway department using up its budget so it wouldn't see a cut the next year. The irreplaceable Mark Steyn has had some fun with America's stop-sign statism over the years: "I quickly appreciate being on a country lane and able to see the country, as opposed to admiring rural America’s unending procession of bend signs, pedestrian-approaching signs, stop signs, stop-sign-ahead signs, stop-sign-ahead-signs-ahead signs, pedestrian-approaching-a-stop-sign signs, designated-scenic-view-ahead signs, parking-restrictions-at-the-designated-scenic-view signs, etc."

And sure enough, we have one of those great "Stop Ahead" signs, because it's not enough to tell drivers to stop anymore. We have to be alerted to start stopping so we can stop completely at the stop sign. Before we stop stopping. And here is the stop sign itself.

hooray

The speed limit is set at a leisurely 35, as is typical for American town and rural roads that are not main thoroughfares. 

After looking hither and yon, there was only one thing I spotted in the intersection that would indicate any particular danger to the intersection.

Yeah, that could have something to do with it.

Illegal snacking.

I was getting to the bottom of a bag of healthy snacks. You can tell they're healthy because they feature the words "good" and "health" and "veggie" right on the front. 

These potato-based snacks also claim to have 30% less fat than regular potato chips, and yet they are still tasty. But are they actually healthy? I wonder. Well, they're tasty.

Here's the thing that shocked me most, seen on the back of the back as I crumpled it up:

"Not for Sale in California"? What the hell?

The Good Health brand is owned by Utz, purveyors of fine snacks, and the fine slogan "Make Utz Yours." Utz potato chips are my wife's fallback to Lay's; they also own Bachman pretzels and a number of other solid brands. Nothing wrong with them. Why the hate from California?

California has some weird rules and wants to dictate policy to the rest of the country by virtue of its size. If CA says no toluene in nail polish, the cosmetics companies must go along or lose access to the 39.5 million men and women in the state. And I do mean men, because there are probably more men in California wearing nail polish than there are women in Ohio. Other states may look to the federal government for that kind of action, but Cali likes to throw its weight around. 

But why would CA make Veggie Stix illegal?

It turns out that California is having a little hissy fit over acrylamide. "Consuming this product can expose you to chemicals including acrylamide, which are known to the state of California to cause cancer. Acrylamide is a chemical that can form in some foods during high-temperature cooking processes, such as frying, roasting, and baking," according to the warning of its Proposition 65. Either the state is preventing the sale of Veggie Stix, or the Utz people don't want to have to put the word CANCER on its food (which would be on bags sold nationwide), or Utz is just sick of hearing lots of YAK YAK YAK from California. And since the whole state is run by Karens, who would? But as JD Supra noted last year, regarding a suit by the state's Chamber of Commerce: 

Although acrylamide has been shown to cause cancer in mice and rats, there is debate on whether studies actually show that greater consumption of acrylamide in food increases the risk of cancer in humans.  The Chamber’s lawsuit therefore argues that compelling businesses to provide a warning that acrylamide is “known” to the State of California to cause cancer violates their First Amendment rights, because consuming food with acrylamide is not “known” to cause cancer in people.

As usual, California has gone it alone, hoping to be a beacon to light the way to the rest of the nation. And indeed, if the rest of the nation wants to have revolving-door DAs, thousands of drug addicts camped on the streets, crumbling roads and bridges, bullet trains no one wants, a dying or fleeing middle class, unrestricted illegal immigration, and a new feudal class, then yes, let's all follow California's example in all things. Meanwhile, Utz can sell its potato chips in California with all that extra fat, but God forbid you should have more than 140 micrograms per day of acrylamide. You'd be spitting cancerous cells if you ate 141 micrograms. 

(BTW: 140 micrograms = 0.14 milligram. There are 28,400,000 micrograms in one ounce. Obviously acrylamide is the most toxic substance in the history of chemistry.)

Not to pile on, but California is the same state that's famous for being unable to supply its own electricity and yet is banning the sale of portable gas-powered generators. It really must enjoy the feudal past, because it is planning to condemn its citizens to the Dark Ages. Or at least its poorer citizens; the wealthy will have large non-portable generators on their estates. 

I'm glad that California has nothing better to do with its time, but I think it ought to consider taking a long nap and perhaps rethinking its priorities. I don't know, it may be too far gone. Maybe we should just wall it off. 

Miscellanea.

Tuesday was a nightmare and today is no better, so I am forced to rely on that old favorite of desperate writers: Observations on the Passing Scene. Thomas Sowell used to do that in his column, and he's a lot smarter than I am, so there. 

1) Filed under Things I Didn't Want to Know, courtesy of the National Institutes of Health:

The human body contains trillions of microorganisms — outnumbering human cells by 10 to 1. Because of their small size, however, microorganisms make up only about 1 to 3 percent of the body's mass (in a 200-pound adult, that’s 2 to 6 pounds of bacteria), but play a vital role in human health.

We all know that bacteria is crucial to being able to live, but come on--two to six POUNDS? Meaning, you could take an equivalent amount of bacteria that's inside me, nothing but the bacteria, and fill a small bucket with it that would weigh more than the average rump roast? What would it look like? Would it be a big puddle of goo? Man, that seems revolting. Hope you weren't eating. 

2) How bad are people in the publishing industry about guy things like sports? Pretty bad. I freelance for one outfit that calls me their go-to sports editor because I am the only copy editor in their stable who watches sports with any kind of knowledge. And that's hardly true for the whole subject. What I know about hockey and basketball, two sports I've barely watched, I got from working on their books. I know a bit about baseball and football, but little compared to my friends who are truly fanatics. And yet I am the Sports Guy. So if you see dumb and incorrect information presented about sports in the media, remember that. 

3) The Chinese Death Olympics suck. They can't even do human interest pieces, like sending out NBC goofballs onto the streets of the town, because no one is allowed out. I am informed that most of the play-by-play and color commentary is being done from booths in the United States (not sure if that's true as NBC is not forthcoming about any of this). China's locked down the whole area because of its own horrible virus, possibly because having athletes die from it would be embarrassing and put the spotlight back on the nation's culpability. Meanwhile, the ramp for the big air ski jump appears to have been built next to a nuclear power plant. But no, the Sporting News assures us that it's quite the opposite! Those silos are now "sleek office spaces" and "museums and restaurants"! I'm sure that it's perfectly safe, just like the Wuhan Institute of Virology. This is all so stupid.

4) I'm working on a new novel, a romance adventure book (not the ripped-bodice type of romance, but there is a romance angle) that has required the most meticulous plot of anything I've ever written. There are a lot of characters and a lot of moving parts involved in a story that unfolds in a matter of a few days. It took me months to work out the story. Now that I'm writing it, I'm scared that if I make any changes to what I wrote in the outline -- say, I decide a scene is better with one of the supporting characters not present -- I'll throw everything off down the line. It requires a lot more focus than I normally have on anything. Maybe it will promote brain health. I doubt it. Not with that bucket full of bacteria I have sloshing around inside me. 

5) February 9 and I haven't fallen on the ice yet, thank God. Okay, I fell yesterday, walking Izzy in an ice-covered park, but it was facing uphill and it more like leaning forward with extreme prejudice. My pride was the only thing hurt, and I had to dust snow off my pants. May God keep you fall-free, wherever you are. 

Kooky copper clad cooking.

Remember when I used to post wacky recipes from promotional pamphlets I'd inherited, like the Coca-Cola or Creamette pasta cookbooks? No? Well, you can find links to all of them at the last one I profiled here, when I thought I'd reached the end of the cookbook line. 

Well, I found another one.

This one was filed with product manuals rather than on the cookbook shelf, and what a surprise! It has recipes!

Yes, the Revere Ware Copper Clad Collection pan book came into the family many years ago along with the pan itself. The booklet has care information for your genuine copper bottomed pan, but also contains 20 recipes. The booklet is not dated, but going by the condition of the pages, the typefaces used, and the presence of a zip code, I'd guess this came out in the late 70's.

As you might guess, the recipes are almost all egg-related. Here's one that caught my eye, but is unlikely to ever get hold of my stomach:

Yeah, nah, I don't think so. Not a big chicken liver guy. 

I'm glad to say we still have the pan:

Ta da!

Definitely a good quality pan. Perfect depth for many uses, mainly omelets of course, and has put up with abuse from me and others through the years. You could do a nice job whacking someone in the face with it in a pinch, too; lightweight but strong.  

We don't use it for eggs that much, because when we make a batch of scrambled eggs we will do half a dozen at a time, and that's too much for this pan. What it is also totally awesome for, though, is toasting spices quickly to bring forth their flavor. Works beautifully and makes the kitchen smell awesome.  

Alas, the history of Revere Ware is not nearly as shiny as the pan itself. It was a branch of the Revere Copper Company, founded by American legend Paul Revere in 1801. Wiki says, "Initially Revere Ware was the culmination of various innovative techniques developed during the 1930s, the most popular being construction of stainless steel with rivetlessly attached bakelite handles, copper-clad bases and rounded interiors for ease of cleaning." But the company fell to hard times, like everyone, in the seventies, and started getting aluminum from foreign sources; by 1982 the company was bankrupt, and then bought by Corning, which sailed it along like the Titanic, and by 2018 Revere Ware was gone.

In case you were wondering, yes, here is the copper bottom:

The trademark, once stamped on all these pans, is almost entirely scratched off from use and can barely be seen. 

Since Revere Ware is no more, I'm thinking of adopting "Copper Bottom" as my nickname. Like FDR's pal Hugh "Iron Pants" Johnson, Fred "Copper Bottom" Key could be a man to be reckoned with. It goes with the Key name, and might help me peddle Fredcoin! And hey, Revere Ware's not around anymore to sue. 

The Cone of Shame.

I mentioned that baby dog Izzy had arthroscopic surgery last week. Also, since he was going under the ether (or whatever they use), we asked if they could neuter him as well. It was my wife's idea. A friend says, "Gee, she's pretty quick with the knife, isn't she?" Of course, I denied it.

But no, Izzy was at the proper age now, and I think if you're not going to breed the dog, leaving the ol' sackeroo intact does him no favors. It's like giving a teenager the keys to a Lambo and not allowing him to ever see the car. It also helps female dogs feel less threatened, allows us to legally attend the dog park in town, avoids some common types of cancer, and prevents me from being presented with a box full of puppies that look halfway like Izzy by an angry neighbor. 

One thing it has not done is cool his crazy attitude. The kid is still a nut.

Anyway, it's a curious thing, but Izzy has been pretty good in the post-op, despite having surgery on three parts of his body (two elbows and the manly center). He was wearing a cone when we picked him up, but my wife took it off him on the way home and we haven't had to put it back on since. However, we were ready if we had to. We have this.

The Comfy Cone by All Four Paws is a soft cone that can be used in place of the E-collar known colloquially as the Cone of Shame. It seems like a remarkable invention. Soft but secure, it still prevents the dog from going after most parts of his body, but it folds when he lies down and can be pulled back when he eats. We ordered it after baby dog Nipper had a skin infection back in '18, because he was absolutely miserable with the plastic collar. 

The funny thing was, by the time the Comfy Cone arrived, it had healed up enough so he didn't need it. 

I suggested we test the thing, but we didn't want to alarm the dogs unnecessarily. So I put it on myself. And yes, it was comfortable. I couldn't see anything, because my eyes are on the front of my head and I walk upright. Never mind that; I could lie down in it and it was fine, and that was more that Nipper could do in the plastic collar. His night with the cone was just awful, and he never slept a wink. But we have had the Comfy Cone on hand for the next emergency.

Since then we lost Nipper to cancer, but he had no treatments that required a cone. Older dog Tralfaz never needed a cone following neutering, and when he had a lumpectomy last year, the vet took a lump from his front shoulder, which he couldn't reach by any means, and thus didn't need the cone. And now Izzy is healing fine and hasn't needed it.

Which means that the only creature to date who has actually worn this cone is me. 

Although it was for altruistic reasons, I actually do feel a little ashamed about it. 

Opening schmeremonies.

If it were up to me, I would ignore the Winter Olympics this year. I certainly support Team USA, and I don't blame the athletes for going to the Games when the policy of the United States did not request that they boycott. But considering what a plague the host country has been and also has unleashed upon the world, I kind of feel like I wanted to sit this one out. 

Of course the Chinese Death Virus, a.k.a. COVID-19, which China accidentally set free and made sure spread throughout the world by allowing international flights out of Wuhan, is reason number one why the Olympics should have been left to die this year. About as bad as the spread of the virus was the spread of totalitarianism that came with it, prompting would-be banana republic dictators to seize emergency powers without end. As Jim Geraghty wrote, even before the pandemic, “We’re Not Exporting Our Values to China — We’re Importing Theirs.” 

Then there's the Uyghur slave labor situation. Is Chamath Palihapitiya right, that no one cares about the Uyghurs? No, of course not; anyone would be moved by the horrifying stories about these persecuted people. My sympathies were dampened for a while because the first Uyghurs I ever heard of were fifteen who had been captured by American forces and sent to Guantanamo in the early part of the War on Terror. However, China persecutes a lot of people, including Christian and Falun Gong practitioners and pretty much anyone who isn't Han, so it's easy to want to see common cause made for all those on the pointy end of the CCP spear. 

Of course, the saber-rattling against Taiwan and the crushing of Hong Kong haven't made the Chinese look nicer on the world stage. Nor has the new space race, including weaponized satellites and anti-satellite satellites, and the new nuclear race, including hypersonic missiles, made anyone get the warm fuzzies over the nation, either. Is this all meant to scare the world into compliance, ensure nationalist enthusiasm at home, or both? Or something more? 

And China's theft of intellectual property, which costs American companies alone something like $50 billion annually, not to mention the accompanying security risks, has never been and will never be seriously addressed by the CCP. They like it just fine.

The rampant corruption of American institutions, including colleges and universities and the government itself, by China is pretty well known but very seldom addressed. Even a Congressman who was (allegedly but almost certainly) banging a Chinese honeypot spy has been allowed to remain on the House Committee on Homeland Security and the Subcommittee on Intelligence and Counterterrorism. When would this have been allowed in any sane era?

Which brings us to: Our worst problem may not be our enemies, but that we have the lousiest, dumbest, most laughable elite in the history of the nation, as is probably true throughout the West in the history of the world. Say what you will about the Spanish Inquisition, but remember that it came on the heels of overthrowing foreign conquerors. Spain went from a poor half-client state to a world power in a matter of decades. They were serious about fighting for themselves. Today in the West we have the Randy defense -- lie helplessly on the ground like a slug.

At least it is not likely that Xi or even Putin will start something serious during the Games, so there's that.

Anyway, what I saw of the opening ceremonies looked okay. It's always the same kind of thing. March of Nations was done to a sort of classical music's greatest hits --William Tell Overture, Pomp and Circumstance, Skater's Waltz, Bolero... I expected actor John Williams to appear and introduce the Polovtsian Dance Number 2 by Borodin.

But anyway, I did not have control of the remote, so the Opening Ceremonies were on. I was playing with the dogs, and killing pigs in Angry Birds Journey, which I will probably be doing as the Olympic Games continue. Too bad Nielsen can't register Watched But Indifferent at my household.

Heartless February.

Everything around here shut down Friday. Actually, the forecast was so apocalyptic that the shutdowns were announced on Thursday. Schools, town hall, vet office, library, everything.  

What caused this was no giant blizzard, but just a tiny amount of ice -- less than an inch thick -- that coated all the surfaces of the town. The power company assured us that they were on the job in case the ice brought down any lines, or any trees that then brought down lines. 

I don't think there were any major outages, but there certainly was ice. It didn't stop our faithful trashmen, though, probably because they are contractors and not government employees. 

By the time I collected my can, a heavy sheet of ice had formed on the lid. This is what fell off when I opened it (Izzy's ear on the lower right). 

In spots there didn't seem to be much freezing... until I used the scraper on it. 

It was much safer to walk on the lawn. Or it would have been, except for the ice crusting over the trampled snow, seen here with a billion footprints from myself and the dogs, all frozen solid. 

I wore my cleats, of course. Three years ago I got a concussion, and two years ago I was in the hospital for my back, both related to falls. Last year we lost Nipper, world's happiest dog, to cancer. While only two of these three events were related to bad weather, all of them happened in February. So I'm saying a novena for protection every day this month, as well as one to avoid fear. I don't want to be so scared that I freeze up and then fall over like a sack of frozen turkeys.

Wherever you live out there, be careful. February has no mercy. Its only heart is the chocolate one you get on the 14th.