September 3, 2020--Couscous

Since late June we haven't been able to find any boxes of Near East couscous at our local food markets. It's one of our staples and we've been feeling frustrated. 

The absence of couscous has been a mystery. Couscous? We're in Maine, not Manhattan. It's hard to conjure that many Mainers craving this exotic grain. Frankly we've been surprised and delighted that it in the past has been so available. 

So, what's the story? In a pandemic running out of toilet paper I get, but couscous?

I finally figured it out thanks to our president. Yes, him. 

You ask what does he know from couscous? Fair question. He's more a Big Mac kind of guy. Not some effete sophisticate.

But lately he's been talking about supermarket items.

Here's what he said at a press gaggle on Tuesday about the rioting in Kenosha:

In cities across the nation, we've also seen police officers assaulted with bricks, rocks, bats, Molotov cocktails, frozen bottle of water. 

Somebody said last night, one of the protesters--I saw it--he said, "It's only water. How can water hurt you?" Yeah, they don't say it's frozen, in a bottle the size of a football. And they throw it at the police. It's unbelievable. It's water." 

And then they have cans of soup. Soup. And they throw the cans of soup. That's better than a brick because you can't throw a brick; it's too heavy. But a can of soup. You can really put some power into that, Right?

So that's what's been going on. Trump weaponized soup and couscous and the shelves are picked clean.

Also, at some point he referred to Campbell soup. Tomato soup. The kind, he said, Andy Warhol painted.

Trump? Andy Warhol? I've got to get a grip.

August 20, 2013--Midcoast: Mud Splattered

We don't need a new car but it's fun to look around.

Rona the other day was saying that we don't really need our VW Passat station wagon. That it's too big and hard to maneuver in and out of our narrow driveway. What's more, she says, "It's a little boring. Shouldn't we, for the summer at least, have something a little smaller and more fun? Maybe even a convertible?"

Up here in the midcoast of Maine, vehicles of choice are pick-ups, Volvos, and lots of Subaru Outbacks. All well-splattered with mud.

Driving back from our once-a-month car wash, we spotted a rare, sleek BMW ragtop. "Something like that," Rona suggested, pointing and  craning her neck to get a better look at it as it raced up the Bristol Road.

"Really?" I said, "No real Mainer would drive something that fancy. Even the very rich people here drive broken-down pickups. It's not like East Hampton where everyone has a Range Rover or Boca Raton where Bentleys outnumber Chevys."

"And none of those come coated with mud. Every other place in Florida is a car detailer." I knew from this that Rona was only playing with the idea of getting something spiffy to drive that would make us stand out and alienate us from all our friends.

"I don't think we've seen one Range Rover," Rona said, feeling good about that. "That's one of the reasons we like being here so much--you don't have to drive a Mercedes to show off or fit in."

"And I can get away with having only five pairs of pants to wear."

"Actually, four," she corrected me.

Not disputing that, I said, "There's another reason to keep our current car, though after washing it it looks a little inappropriate. I sort of liked the mud."

"What's that?"

"The other day in the New York Times I saw an article about a study, an actual study that compared how rich and lower-income people drive."

"Which concluded?"

"Essentially," I said, "that BMW drivers as compared to people with Fords are much more aggressive and discourteous."

"Why am I not surprised. Show it to me when we get home."

Later, while reading it, Rona quoted from the piece, "'The [study] team watched a four-way-stop intersection [in Los Angeles] over a week, noting how likely drivers were to cut in front of others when it was not their turn to go. In their observation of 274 cars, the researchers found that the more expensive ones were more likely to jump their turns in the four-way rotation.'"

"Didn't they also find," I recalled, "that about 80 percent of the drivers did the right thing?"

"Yes, that's the good news. 'But,'" she read from the article again, quoting the lead researcher, who did a study of cars and pedestrians in crosswalks--in California the law requires cars to yield, "'But you see a huge boost in driver's likelihood to commit infractions in more expensive cars. In our crosswalk study, none of the cars in the beat-up car category drove through the crosswalk.'"

"That settles it," I said, "No BMW for us. I like my VW. Especially when it's all splattered."

"That should be by later this afternoon," Rona said to assure me that we would soon lapse back into inconspicuousness.