Alone

Being alone is as if one dead,

Absent of face or voice.

Formless shapes dart passed,

Never raising their heads.

Love, it seems, fills the lungs,

And gives sound to voice.

Once voice is lost and air recedes, lovers stand quiet,

More silent than when their voice was none.

The vacuum left by love departed,

Draws near so many unworthy suitors.

Ill fitting matches with promise of life,

Giving hope to false voices.

Suffocating lovers cling to hope,

As each is drawn from their grasp.

As artists yearn to paint,

Lovers seek to love.

In my tomb a vigil I keep, silent, with lowered head and eyes,

An unwelcome distraction these suitors be, offering empty delights.

I wait, graveside, soundless and faceless for a mourner to come,

To hear my voice and see my face, which are good enough for me.

~Wesley Gomes, May 10th, 2011

Love Alone

The hardest thing I have had to do,

Is try to live alone without you.

The day you left and closed the door,

My heart broke, never to be as before.

My soul, warn and weary, is less than whole,

For the cost of my love, I pay the toll.

Each box a painful memory,

Of how far you’ll always be.

No hope reflected in your eyes,

As you listen to my wracking cries.

I come before you, myself laid bare,

But no love for me do you have to spare.

More pain, than love, laid dead,

My best friend, lover, and soul has fled.

~ Wesley Gomes, April 12th, 2011

Rain

Grey clouds predict the rain,

But no one can predict the pain.

Tears fall like raindrops to the ground,

Emotions rage and thunder pounds.

Through the torrent it’s impossible to see,

Too many defects allowed to be.

After the rain is past and the clouds retreat,

The air is washed clean and more complete.

With clean air and further sight,

Easier to see it’s worth the fight.

While the falling rain blurs the view,

The morning sun shows me you.

~ Wesley Gomes, April 2, 2o11

Un Petit Cadeau

The sweet taste of your passion fills my mouth and stains my lips,

The weight of your body against my hip,

The heat from your skin a brand on my soul,

Without it I’m torn, diminished, less whole.

Your racing pulse against my cheek

Drains my strength and makes me weak.

The scent of your skin stains the sheets

A moment of time I forever will keep.

My body tightens, bound, straining to be free,

Desperately waiting, unlocked by your key.

The weight of your body against my chest,

Mends my heart, and puts fears to rest.

A moment so fleet, not part of your plan,

But is a crust of bread to a starving man.

-Wesley Gomes, March 30^th, 2011

My “Junk”

I was reading the news on CNN.com this morning and I read an article about John Tyner, the San Diego man who refused the full body x-ray screening at the security check point in the air port and then during his physical pat down advised the TSA agent, “If you touch my junk I’ll have you arrested.” The encounter was recorded on his cell phone’s video camera.

My initial reaction was amused, mainly because he said junk. After my little chuckle I could totally empathize with this guy. It’s an on going controversy, personal privacy vs. public safety, and one in which I’ve been pretty interested in. We all agree at some point to relinquish personal freedoms for the good of society. We all agree we can’t run around killing people, driving cars while intoxicated, or stealing things from one another. At what point; however, did we agree to let the government look at us naked in order to travel. I just feel like we are on this slippery slope and the next thing you know we’ll all by flying naked. I watched the video from the news report and the newswoman said, “Well remember the underwear bomber; they have to check your crotch.” I thought to myself, “So when they catch someone trying to blow up a plane by shoving C4 up their snatch or their ass are they going to have a gynecologist/proctologist at security check points as part of the normal screening?” I mean we’ve gone this long without this technology and yeah 9/11 happened but we know more know and they’ve made adjustments to current procedures. I for one am not willing to let TSA look at me naked, nor do I want them grabbing my “junk.”

Part of my views stem from the fact that I am a federal employee and what I know about TSA employees is that they are not highly trained individuals; they start at a GS-4 which means they do not even have to have any education to get the job. We’re not dealing with highly trained and professional CIA, FBI, or even Homeland Security agents we’re dealing with people who could just as well be working for McDonalds as working for TSA. We’ve already seen that the images received from the full body scanners can be saved, despite what TSA “assures” us. There was an incident a few months ago at a federal court house where security personnel were ridiculing a woman, a co-worker, because of the image they had of her full body scan. So I’m not interested in hearing what TSA has to say about how they protect the security of the images, most of the time I’m sure they are right but clearly there is the opportunity for abuse. What is going to happen when they do screw up? Sorry Mr. Gomes your full body scan image was leaked on the internet, a new website called nakedpeopleattheairport.com (a la peaopleofwalmart.com). It’s not like I can sue them. Even the police can’t just pat you down because they want to; they have to have probable cause. Apparently wanting to fly, or is it refusing to let a stranger see you naked, is probable cause enough for TSA to “grab your junk.” It seems the airline industry, including TSA, has very little accountability. An airline can hold you on the tarmac with no food and water for 3 hours. 3 hours is based on new legislation and doesn’t cover foreign airlines only domestic. It was worse before. I think 3 hours is still insanity. I don’t sit at my desk for longer then 3 hours without eating, drinking, peeing, or walking around. Not to mention they certainly do not take any responsibility for your checked luggage. Oh sorry we lost it. You’re shit out of luck. We’re not going to replace your items. In order to file a claim with the airport you practically have to buy all new clothes just for your trip, keep all of your receipts, and take a picture of your packed bags to prove what was in it.

I respect the fact that airline personnel have the right to a secure workplace. I have several friends who work in an airport or on a plane and I would not want any of them harmed by a dangerous passenger. That being said, I work for the IRS, which is an equally dangerous place to work because the agency as a whole is a target for domestic terrorists. We get bomb threats, threats of physical violence, suspicious packages; we get called every name in the book, and physically assaulted. How does the government protect my safety? With an 80 year old, privately contracted, security agent who doesn’t even have a metal detector (hand held nor walk through), nor is there any form of bag scanner. For me being a federal employee and flying presents unique challenges. The first is simply that I fly more often. Before I worked for the federal government I hardly even had reason to fly. Now I fly at least once a year on government business and often I’m gone for several weeks at a time. When I travel for official purposes I’m required to carry my federal ID. Now my federal ID isn’t just a card with my picture on it. It has a chip which is encoded with my finger prints my federal employment information as well as my personal information, including demographics. In addition to my federal ID I had to under go a pretty invasive background investigation which spanned the last 10 years of my life, a personal interview with and investigate, and said investigator then interviewed my family, friends and neighbors all in order to hold a security clearance high enough to do my job. All this of course means nothing when I hit the security check point. Now I’m not saying I’m more important that anyone else but at the same time the average person at the airport has not been subject to such an extensive invasion of privacy. So on top of my carrying around a card which basically contains my life on a microchip you want to scan my naked ass? It just seems like a step over the line. I would rather pay extra for say a passport in which they conduct a background investigation and which has a chip containing all of my personal information, finger prints, demographics, etc. which allows for a more expedited trip through airport security screening than let someone take pictures of me naked and/or have someone physically put their hands on me. The other option is to develop technology like that on the movie “Total Recall.” Remember the scene where everyone walks through a hallway and the TSA agents on the other side see their skeleton and any weapons they maybe carrying. I didn’t see anyone’s junk using that technology.

Malassadas

Because everyone asked . . .

Malassadas:

4 Eggs

1/2 cup + 1 tsp of Sugar

1 package of yeast

1/4 cup warm water (110 – 115 degrees)

2 tsp melted butter

1/4 tsp salt

1 1/2 cups whole milk

1/2 cup half and half

6 cups of flour

Canola or soy oil for frying

In stand mixer with whisk attachment whisk eggs and 1/2 cup of sugar. Separately mix 1 package of yeast 1 tsp sugar and 1/4 cup warm water, allow to get foamy (proof) 5 min. If the yeast doesn’t foam your water is too cold too hot or no good, throw the mixture out and start again. Once eggs and sugar have lightened in color add melted butter, salt, milk, half and half, and yeast mixture when ready. Whisk just another 1 -2 min to combine. Switch to dough hook and turn mixer on low, add one cup of flour at a time until a soft ball forms and the dough pulls away from the bowl. Coat

glass bowl with 1-2 tablespoons oil transfer dough to oiled bowl coat bottom of dough ball then flip so the ball is coated in a thin layer of oil. Let rise in warm spot for 2 hours. Once dough has doubled turn out on LIGHTLY flowered surface. Roll out into rectangle roughly 1/4 thick. Cut dough into 1″ squares. Heat oil to 350 degrees and fry 3-4 squares at a time. Roll malassadas in granulated sugar. Enjoy!

NOTES: The recipe I used included 6 eggs not 4 and 4/3 cup of sugar. The dough took nearly 8 cups of flour and made the largest batch of dough I have ever made. I think this reduced recipe is more manageable. It’s important to remember that the flour measurement is not exact. The dough may take less or more flower depending on humidity, elevation, and who is playing in the super bowl. I also cut the dough 2″ square not realizing quite how much the dough would expand. The 2″ size were a little larger than a single bite so smaller might be better. I dusted mine with cinnamon after I sugared them but you could just use a cinnamon and sugar mix, or nutmeg. The dough will be soft and pretty sticky. I would be careful when adding flower. If you keep adding flower until the dough is no longer sticky you’ll have a cannon ball instead of dough. So the dough should for a soft ball and spring back when you poke it. dust it lightly with flower to keep it manageable. I also made my dough and allowed it to rise over night in the fridge. The cold dough is way easier to handle. I rolled it out and let it rise (come to room temperature) for about an hour and a half to two hours. Then I fried. Ideally all of your ingredients should be room temperature before combining.

Taxes

I HATE tax protesters. I’m not talking about people who don’t agree with how tax money is spent. I’m talking about people who protest the fact that they have to pay federal taxes. Welcome to living in a civilized and industrialized country. If you have such a problem paying federal taxes why don’t you move to Afghanistan where there is no tax system. These people always want the benefit that the American government affords all of it’s citizens but do not want to make any effort to monetarily support the functioning of the government! They always want to argue the syntax of the tax code. Listen up people, here’s the truth if you perform a service and you receive compensation for that service it is considered income. Income is taxable. Period. And I don’t want to hear any bull shit about flat taxes. Most flat tax countries charge in excess of 20% of total income. In the Netherlands the flat tax ranges from 33% to 55%. That’s half of your paycheck gone each time you get paid. In the US the median income taxpayer is paying less than 18%. If they were to institute a flat tax in a country of our size it would be astronomical. I can honestly say I like paying taxes. I have no problem in giving the government which offers me numerous legal protections and standards of living a portion of my income. It is the sacrifice we make to be Americans.

Dusk

As the last scraps of light are cast away,

With dulcet tones of blue and gray,

The pallid sky deals drops of rain,

Drawing closed a tired refrain,

Noise which echoes of the past,

Dusk, my friend, has come at last.

Pink Peppercorn Chicken with Golden Rice

So this recipe started with a curiosity about pink peppercorns. I found a pink peppercorn ice cream recipe and so I ordered some pink peppercorn with my last Penzeys order. I have yet to make the ice cream but I began to search for other pink peppercorn recipes and came up with this recipe.

 

 

 

 

Pink Peppercorn Chicken

1 Tablespoon Pink Peppercorns

1 Tablespoon rosemary

2 Bonless skinless chicken breasts

1-2 cups dry white wine

1 leek

Pound both chicken breasts so that they are the same thickness. Marinate in 2 cups of white wine for 1 hour. Grind the rosemary (I used fresh) and pink peppercorns with a good pinch of salt. Dust both sides of each chicken breast with the spice mix. Reserve two leek blades, shred the rest of the leeks and spread at the bottom of a 9×13 baking dish. Add enough white wine to coat the bottom of the baking dish but not cover the leeks; you want the chicken breasts to lay on top of the leeks but not rest in the wine (about a cup to a cup and a half). Add the chicken breasts to the baking dish and bake for 18-20 min. The pink peppercorns will make the chicken pink so be careful not to over cook the chicken.

White wine pink peppercorn sauce

1 tblsp butter

1 tblsp flour

Reserved leeks

1 tsp pink pepper corns

1 cup of reserved cooking liquid

1/2 cup cream

After baking the chicken I strained the cooking liquid (I had about a cup). In a skillet I melted 1 tablespoon of butter and saute the reserved leeks with about 1 teaspoon of pink peppercorns. I added 1 tablespoon of flour and cooked the flour for a min. or so. I added the reserved cooking liquid and 1/2 cup of cream. I simmered the sauce until it coated the back of a spoon. I strained the sauce and spooned over the chicken.

Golden Rice

1 cup long grain rice (I used basmati)

1/3 cup of white or yellow onion

2 tblsp butter

Pinch of Saffron

Pinch of salt to taste

1 1/2 cup chicken stock

Melt the butter in a sauce pan and saute onions until soft. Add rice and saute a min. more. Add stock, salt to taste, and crush saffron into the pot. Bring to a boil, cover and reduce heat to low, simmer for 18 min.

The Prison of the Present

So I experienced a bit of a paradox today. I started my BA about two months ago. Since I started I’ve been bitching a lot about homework. The funny thing about me bitching about homework is that so far there has been a lot less individual homework than my AA program. My next class does not start for another two weeks. The paradox comes in that today I sat down and realized I missed having school work. So I guess I’m damned if i do and damned if I don’t by my own devices. Part of this paradox, I think, stems from the fact that I have a genuine passion for psychology. I simply love the topic and I really can’t get enough. The last two classes have been basically a review of the last two years I spent earning my AA. This review of information I already possessed was tedious.

My next class; however, is something new, the history of psychology. Now most of us are familiar with names like Freud and Jung. Freudian psychology bores me to tears but this class extends it’s reach much further. This class begins with philosophy and the philosophy’s which created what we know today as psychology. So far what I have really enjoyed about the reading is that the purpose of studying this branch of history is clearly defined. The book does not suppose to teach history simply for the sake of history. The book asserts that in order to truly understand the present we need to understand history. I feel that this is a very basic function of human existence. Think about the last time you told a funny story. You didn’t just deliver the punch line, you had to give the listener some history, back story, or lead in. This principle resonates with the Buddhist principle of mindfulness. Mindfulness is the balanced acceptance of the present moment no matter how good or how bad. Mindfulness is basically the process of not dwelling in the past or the future. If something bad happens it does not help to think about what could have been done better or what horrible things might happen in the future. Mindfulness suggests that if something bad happens you deal with it in the present. You do what you can to make the bad situation better or at least alleviate the negative side effects.  A quote in my psychology book brought this principle of mindfulness into contemporary practice. i found the quote very enlightening and it prompted this little musing.

“We sputter against the Polluted Environment – as if it had come with the age of the automobile. We compare our air not with the odor of horse dung and the plauge of flies and the smells of garbage and human excrement which filled the cities of the past, but with the honeysuckle perfumes of some nonexistent City Beautiful. We forget that even if the water in many cities today is not spring-pure, . . . till for most of history the water of the cities (and of the countryside) was undrinkable. We reproach ourselves for the ills of disease and malnutiriton, and forget that until recently, enteritis and measles and whooping cough, diphtheria and typhoid, were killing diseases of childhood, . . . [and] polio was a summer monster.”

~Daniel Boorstin “The Prison of the Present” 1971