Sniffling Raintea of the Lameragon Tribe - that I am para Hoy!

“How can any man be weak who dares to be at all?”
― Henry David Thoreau

January 23^rd, 2012

So for me – this is the real New Years Day, the Chinese New Year of 2012 - the Year of the Water Dragon.  How appropriate that it’s still raining up here in Los Angeles, washing away the smoke & tar, exposing all for it’s true colors . . at least outside that is.

 

Recapping Sunday’s events – Mr. Wilson and I hit up brunch with Captain Caveman . . nothing special but I did partake in a delectable side of biscuits & gravy.  At about 10:30am, Bishop & I attended our District Nichiren Buddhist gathering at a house in West Hollywood.  It had been too long since I had participated in group “Nam Myoho Renge Kyo” and it was quite euphoric, I need to keep that daily task going for sure.  Afterwards, Bishop & I went for coffee to catch up on his recent affairs – he is a great guy, a Phoenix transplant that is a worthy friend by every means.  More friend “catch up” early evening at Hamburger Mary’s for cocktails before scurrying over to Marco’s Tratorria for some badly needed starch – truffled parmesan fries, chicken pesto pizza, fruite de mar, lobster mac-n-cheese, warm foccacia – so, so, so stuffed.  You know that feeling that you should have stopped eating hours ago, but it was so damn good you just continued scarfing up more meal?  Let’s just say, I had to make a dash to Sav-On for a refill on lactaid (something my father’s genes gave me that I don’t particularly care for as a chef – lactose intolerant I am).

It’s Monday afternoon now and I’m moving slow . . real, real slow.  Combination of the moisture enhanced air, pillow pockets of carbon like bronchioles & something living within my lungs that likes to spit up not fire, but something of a sluggish, mustard yellow fluid.  I prefer to abstain from using the word “sick” and instead refer to these moments as “feel like ass”  I’m rather lucky during these rare times of “under the weather” as I simply sleep off the symptoms.  Equipped with my fresh, organic ginger & lemon tea . . I strain to punch the keys on my labtop, lest I mention the neurons misfiring as I attempt to command my ineptness. 

I think is best that I concede today to my state of patheticness & rise another day to claim my dragon ambitions.  A recipe . . hmm, how’s this – go to the grocery story and select a box of cereal that appeases your inner child (for me it was always Cocoa Pepples or Lucky Charms . . which I would eat all of the little marshmallow treats and leave the cardboard bits of cereal for my brother).  Remove a bowl from your cupboard & fill ¾ of the way with your selected cereal.  Add your preference of milk (the day of whole, skim or 2% has long since passed away . . now you have Soy, Almond, Cashew, Hemp, Rice Milk . . . too many choices) and consume with a spoon.  If you’re like me and my father – don’t forget to take your lactaid or else suffer the consequences of bloated Buddha belly.

With tiresome blessings,

                         Scotty 

ps:  I should mention that my quest for Boo Berry cereal ran a solid seven years . . the most elusive of the family of monster cereals. . it was my childhood crack.