Why?

Have you ever had a conversation where the person you're talking to just wants you to shut up but they still feign interest?

I just had one of those. I suppose I'm only party to those types of conversation about 50% as often as the average person. I've got a great imagination, but if I don't feel like pretending--this may surprise you--I don't.

If you don't know about health care reform, start here.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32083506/ns/health-health_care/

Fortnight is just better.

Seriously. Who came up with biweekly? Why does the prefix in biweekly mean something different than biannually? That just doesn't make any sense.

Merriam-Webster feels my pain.

Main Entry:
1bi-
Function:
prefix
Etymology:
Middle English, from Latin
1 a: two b: coming or occurring every two c: into two parts 2 a: twice : doubly : on both sides b: coming or occurring two times ? compare semi-


Usage - Many people are puzzled about bimonthly and biweekly, which are often ambiguous because they are formed from both senses 1b and 2b of bi-. This ambiguity has been in existence for nearly a century and a half and cannot be eliminated by the dictionary. The chief difficulty is that many users of these words assume that others know exactly what they mean, and they do not bother to make their context clear. So if you need bimonthly or biweekly, you should leave some clues in your context to the sense of bi- you mean. And if you need the meaning "twice a," you can substitute semi- for bi-. Biannual and biennial are usually differentiated.

If you're ever talking to me, don't say biweekly.

Some cool links

Chels and I planted a little garden. We haven't actually used any of it yet (except the herbs), but I think that will start soonish.

Someday, when I'm rich, Chels, Mr. Brown and I will dine on fresh locally raised, crafted and grown food. I'll have it delivered.

For now, I looked up a few links.
Here's a complete list of the Farmer's Markets in Utah, with the exception of the Thursday market they're going to start at the U.
http://utahsown.utah.gov/FarmersMarkets.htm

Here is a very cool community garden that I'm contemplating joining.
http://sherylsgardengroup.blogspot.com/

This may be a little excessive.

But the logic is interesting.

http://urbanvelo.org/chinese-man-vandalizes-cars-that-run-red-lights/

Mr. Brown

In spite of me, he's a cute kid.

The Sandwich Nazi

You've seen the Seinfeld episode. The Soup Nazi lives in NY. The Sandwich Nazi lives in Salt Lake City. He peddles sandwiches at Musumeci's Italian Deli. I suppose that the "Nazi" part isn't appropriate because we're talking salami rather than schnitzel. Italy did have Mussolini. The Sandwich Socialist. Ha.


Even with this picture, you'll probably never find the joint. It's between 2nd & 3rd south on the east side of state street in downtown SLC. I happened upon it one day as I was walking to the Himalayan Kitchen with Fish. I voted for trying it, but he was feelin' the tikka tikka.

About a month later, in a deep culinary depression having no rooster-esque cuisine this side of the bubble, I decided to try it out. My dad, his buddy Tom and I walked down.

The picture is kind of deceiving. Once you get in the doors, you walk what feels like a city block down a dingy hallway with glass windows on both sides all the way down. It looks like there was a private school there before because I looked in the windows, I had flashbacks of Ms. Goffe telling me that if I was leaving her classroom I would be flying (because she would throw me). Nasty woman.

Once you get down the hall, it opens up into the dining area, which has superb ambiance. The magic of plastic lawn chairs, red and white check plastic tablecloths, and Christmas lights is undeniable. Ladies and gentlemen, this is a high quality eating establishment.

Off to your left is the quirky little kitchen/counter where you order. All kinds of Sicilian memorabilia and Yankees stuff is haphazardly strewn about the walls. The menu is best read if you're dyslexic.

As you approach the counter, you'll notice a stack of half sheets of paper. Grab one and a pen. That's how you order your sandwich. But beware, Phil (the sandwich socialist) and his son (the socialist in training) will not make it your way without giving you crap.

I ordered an italian sausage sandwich and asked for provolone, mayo and mustard. The socialist in training shook his head in disgust and in a thick New York accent announced "we don't do that." Slightly taken back, I politely asked what he recommended, and took his recommendation (just a note, you don't need a large sandwich. Get a small and you'll be full.)

Tom asked for something similar, and it looked like Phil threw up in his mouth. Flustered, Tom changed his order to a hot pastrami. Luckily for him, he didn't ask for cheese, just pickles and mustard. Phil cooled off and approved, "now that's a sandwich I can respect."

My dad took the safe route. He got what I got.

Fish and I went back today and watched several people get the same treatment. I had to chuckle a bit, having once been in the same spot. I ordered on the safe side and got cappocolo, salami and pepperoni, with lettuce, mustard and mayo.

I didn't mind at all. The man knows his sandwiches. After all, as Fish once said "When I go to a restaurant, I want what I order to be the way the chef intended." Wo, wo, wo to the individual who shows up in a Red Sox hat or asks for ranch on his sandwich at Musumeci's.

Now that you've been warned, check it out.