chicken sausage

i have been challenged on the question of breakfast here more than once. why does it matter that breakfast has pork on the table? why do i whine as much about it as i do? i was considering how my day in the US and here are different, and basically it came down to the levels of pork and of quality. that last word was almost ease, but my issues here are not about having things, its having things done well.

in the US i can go into a restaurant and ask for a burger without a bun, the same burger but wrapped in a piece of lettuce. that really might sound like a simple request but without even trying i am sure the level of effort to get this done is not worth the return. last week i ordered two hard boiled eggs, with a side of hollandaise. the eggs came in 5 minutes, two eggs in the shell sitting in a bowl with no sauce on the side. as i cracked the first egg it exploded in my hand, hot runny yoke spilling over my burnt fingers.

i sent the eggs back, asked again for hard boiled out of the shell and for the sauce on the side. 5 minutes later, a new bowl with apparently new eggs, running together is a mass of soft boiled ooze. i asked the server how i should correctly order hard boiled eggs, he smiled and walked away. a few minutes later i asked another server for hollandaise and ate the soft boiled eggs. i wondered if the lesson was to not try to do things the hard way.

a few months ago i was trying to order breakfast and was given the choice of chicken sausage, beef bacon or nothing. i choose to skip the meat, but only after asking those around me if they would like pork also. the people at the tables close by agreed that they also wanted the other white meat; majority-discrimination or not, it just tastes better. i added a sign to my table that read, "beri saya babi", which was politely ignored.

in the US, having breakfast is simple. it comes without a moral debate over the animals i am eating, or a secular debate over why others are choosing which they will allow in slab or sausage form. i have tried the local replacement meats, but find them sadly lacking. i am sure if i asked my grandmother why she didn't serve beef bacon or chicken sausage, she would have looked at me in a puzzled way and said, "because that's not the way god made them".

that same puzzled look is the one i get when the debate of breakfast meat breaks open. but here is the thing, i have tried it their way, i have eaten the weak alternatives, and i have gone without. have they tried it my way? do the people who think chicken sausage is a good choice know the the taste of the meat allegedly evil? i challenge anyone to tell me beef bacon tastes as good as pork; or is even a close alternative.

by the way, baked beans are not for breakfast either. copying your cuisine from the british is a recipe for failure in taste, but even local "english breakfast" is done with compromise. the best part of baked beans is the flavoring of salt pork. the local version is correctly halal, and again suffers in terms of flavor. post-enlightenment democracy is about allowing people to choose without the enforcement of mystical tradition pressuring the way. at the very least its about letting quality come to the front over tradition.

take a taste before you want to tell someone what is best. or listen to my grandmother, let others do breakfast, "the way god intended".

less noise

i have noticed something unexpected in the past few days. the world without wheat is a quiet place. i am beginning to wonder if this is what most people experience world as, a clear and quiet space that flows along a smooth flat path. this has been a holiday week, and work and life have both been unnaturally calm, but this is more than that. each day has shown that life does have the ability to move without the thrill of a bungee jump.

the last time i was decarbonated i was trying to vainly plug the hole of a dam that was set to burst. the process of holding back the oncoming wave, and asking how things had degenerated into a leaky mess springing holes faster than they could be patched, was enough to eliminate all hope of quiet time. whether i was driving, riding or sitting still, my mind was moving at full pace in directions of it's own. carbonation levels be damned, other things created their own noise.

this time is different, i have been waking up early and listening to the quietness inside and out. my near constant multi-tasking has dropped away at the same time that the light levels have come up. the room is bright and shiny, with the noisy neighbors apparently away on holidays. there is no distraction, and no urgency to begin moving. rather, there is the ability to sit on the couch and read the paper, or in a cafe write, without the normal extras.

what is missing is the chatter of the day that i am used to, the dialogue of debate that i have come to enjoy. i feel like a new yorker who has been dropped into the middle of the beautiful field with wildflowers and tall grass. i am sitting under a shade tree and watching the clouds drift by. the quietness is welcome. after the noise of the city, it is good to be out in the countryside with time to relax. but the lack of noise reminds me that i am truly a city kid.

choosing to live in the city is about being close to the action, to have a cafe on every corner, book stores on every block and a restaurant scene that you need to work to keep up with. it's about having amusement parks that allow you to ride a roller coaster when you feel the need. with these distractions come the noise, pollution and other distractions that staying in the country help you avoid. country living is about comfort not thrills, but the thrills can be missed.

stepping off the curb in decarbonated country does not come with the tension of dodging on-rushing taxis. this sounds like a good thing, until you find yourself wondering what will replace that tension. the flat, quiet country road is nice; easy to slowly glide down. but, the pace of city streets, even with congestion, horns and danger, is what is missed by a city kid as they travel that slow country road.

sometimes, noisy neighbors are good to have around. how long can a city kid watch puffy white clouds silently drift by?

living better

one of the things about being alone is that you can ignore what others might point out. being with someone, you have a second pair of eyes which see events from another angle. those other eyes might notice what you don't, they might ask why something you accept is the way that it is. being alone you can ignore looking into the mirror, but one day you feel the other eyes and you are finally are forced to look and see what you have missed.

i have known for years that i have allergies. i spent almost two years starting each morning with a steroid inhaler. it kept recurrent bouts of bronchitis at bay, i would wake up unable to breath and would draw the gritty meds into my lungs, calming the clamped pressure that built up over night. this was about managing the symptoms rather than dealing with the cause, which was never clearly identified. it was clear that fresh beer, breads and dairy were all issues, but because i was sickest every year at the solstice a sad rumor of grinch-like christmas tree allergies circulated.

just after christmas 5 - 6 years ago, i was suffering once again. my general health was in question. i was gaining weight for no reason, i was exercising but could not maintain, when not exercising i was fighting to catch my breath, i was fighting mood swings and fatigue; all of which made me truly tired. it also impacted those closest to me; it's hard to live in a situation without solution. a solution was accidentally found one day, but it was too late to correct the underlying damage.

almost randomly i picked up a book that advocated removing large elements of the standard american diet to improve your health. i am not normally a person that corrects issues by elimination; i prefer to actively manage than draconian cuts. but i decided to give draconian management a try and a week later i stopped using the inhaler. by removing the things that were silently making me sick, i found i felt much better. all of my symtoms quickly disappeared, and i was the healthiest i have been in my adult life.

then i moved to malaysia, and as with all large changes i formed new routines. i remember the morning of the tipping point. i was driving and decided i could go to a bakery for breakfast, the decision was more about the need for comfort food then nutrition. i knew if i turned i would indulge in things i was better to avoid. this was the proverbial slippery slope, but i lied to myself reassuringly saying, "if it becomes an issue, i will stop going". even as i said it, there was another voice with a chuckle saying, "yeah right".

knowing your limits is a good thing, but even when you do you can still rationalize; for a while. i have slowly fallen back into the old spiral, and i have been paying the price. i have been living on antihistimines to manage recurrent coughs, nasal sprays for rhinitis and antacids for reflux. mixed in are my old friends joint pain, fatigue and weight gain. a few nights ago, i again woke up in a pool of sweat and with a mouth full of stomach acid. this is the first time in weeks that has happened, but its also the first time in weeks i didn't do my nightly regiment of imported medications. waking up choking is a really strong indication of the need to reconsider the idea of comfort foods.

so i have made a decision, it's time to listen to that little voice i have been ignoring. my sister and my mother have diagnosed auto-immune disorders, my other sister is having symptoms identical to mine and i clearly need to admit that having less than average is not acceptable if i am not average. i started making the changes i have avoided two days ago and i woke up this morning feeling the best i have in a year. i spent yesterday feeling clear and bright, i woke up early this morning and remembered how it felt to get up without being tired.

the downside is that i need to seriously alter my life. i need to avoid the sticky glutens that have inflamed my insides. i need to eliminate the things i crave, even if they are comforting they are not feeding me well. this can not be a 6 month change, it has to be for the long haul. i need to decide that no matter where i live, i need to follow the rules. the rules are not hard to follow, but they are easy to break a little bit at a time. the new rule is that even a little bit is bad.

elimination is the only way to a better life, i knew this before and rationalized it away. i think i need a mirror to make sure i don't forget this time.

happy drunk

there are moments that lead to unexpected places, happy moments that lead to tragedy, and the opposite. i was on a plane a few months ago, flying to the US for business and talking to a seat mate about life and happiness. which is when the random eastern european guy sitting on the other side of me stumbled his way back from the restroom. he was drunk when he got on the plane, and had been drinking unsteadily since take off. his completely broken english had only gotten worse as white wines were added to the fire, but his desire to speak had only increased. where do you think this moment was leading?

as he attempted to climb into his seat drunk guy braced himself firmly on his wine glass and tumbled forward. the drink was projected into my seat, it's wine splashing into my lap and onto my ipod. a drinker falling over is not uncommon and spills happen on planes, something about being bounced around at 37,000 feet while moving at 400 miles per hour has a way of helping both happen. i should have expected it, and that i could have protected the ipod better than putting it on my lap. i cleaned it off, drying it with my blanket and decided soon after it was time to get some sleep. drunk guy was dosing off, i thought i should do the same.

it wasn't until i got to the transit lounge that i took the ipod out again. the second song didn't play, neither did the fourth or the fifth; the feeling of dread crept into the transit. i decided to wait and see if more drying time would make a difference. i mean, how much damage can a cheap australian chardonnay do to a consumer electronic device. the answer was clear when i got to the US and found i was without tunes on the drive home. my ipod was dead, drunk guy was long gone, i was driving listening to the sound of my own wheels. time to decide on next steps.

being in the US, i decided to go to the mall before i left. being a US mall, it was not stacked 5 stories high, this single fact made the trip better than average fro me. i took full advantage of the ease of moving around and began looking for a new ipod. in the huge electronics store i convinced myself that my 80 gig classic should be replaced with a 64 gig itouch. i hadn't considered the purchase at all, but i was alone and bored. i decided even if it was a mistake i would enjoy it anyway. sleek, shiny and sexy, it was time to upgrade and try something new.

after a few weeks of use, playing with downloaded apps, using it as an instant on micro-laptop to do IMDB and wikipedia searches on the couch, and listening to music converted through the sadly un-slick itunes, i had come to the conclusion that i should have made myself the target of a drunk spill a long time ago. the only downside to the touch was lack of internet connection while mobile. the device lost all its charm and glamor when it was away from wifi.

it's a happy coincidence that the holiday season was coming, it allowed me to do the only sensible thing; buy myself a present i didn't actually need. i am now the proud owner of an iphone, a slightly fatter touch with a 3G connection ensuring always on internet. so i own yet another phone, yet another computer device, one more thing to carry and track. i have my blackberry as primary phone and the touch as a music device, but i love my iphone. it is a near perfect computer device.

i was asked if i got mad at the drunk guy for spilling a drink on me or for turning my ipod into a paperweight. i might have years ago, but now i think of the question as funny; why would i get mad at someone for a mistake? life happens, spills happen, things get wet and never dry out. songs are lost and can not be recovered. when it happens you can get angry and fume about it, you can spend time thinking about a random person you will never see again, or you can go out and buy a new toy.

if you are really lucky, you can go out and get two toys. my mom used to say, better to much than not enough.

the drunk guy certainly was working on that plan before the spill, why shouldn't i do the same afterwards.