BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Yeah… I know. But sometimes that happens…

I have met some wonderful people throughout my touring, etc. I have made some very dear friends. Hell, I’ve even made a few enemies, probably. But, this blog is about one of the friends.

In reality, what this is about is his blog…

While I have some widely varied opinions on controlled substances – for instance, I believe Marijuana should be legalized. It’s not my thing- Scotch, Bourbon, Martini’s and Vodka Tonics are (in moderation) – but I still think it should be legalized. Just my two cents.

However, there are other drugs which are so insidious and addictive that they literally destroy lives. I have seen this happen with former friends who were unable to shake the addiction. Fortunately, in a few instances, they were…and, by their own choice, after succeeding in breaking the cycle have chosen to move away and start new lives, forsaking their pasts – even the good parts. While I miss them, I am supportive of them in doing this…If that is what it takes for them to stay clean, and have a liveable life…

But, the point behind this was my friend’s blog. He has seen far more than I have, and has written something from experience which is more powerful than anything I could ever say on this subject. I would like to suggest that EVERYONE read it. It is important… It brings the reality home… And, it promotes a deep understanding of the real victims of someone’s addiction.

With his gracious permission, I have reposted the blog below…

Thanks…

More to come…

Murv

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A Taste-Johnny Seitz

Sinus pills. Cough syrup. Drain cleaner. Hair spray. Fertilizer. Paint thinner. Freon. Brake fluid. Battery acid. Lye. Epsom salt. An inability to sleep. Loss of tooth enamel. Increased sensitivity to noise and light. Paranoia. Confusion. Razors. Syringes. Baggies. Foilies. Smoke. Snort. Shoot. Amp. Ice. Speed. Glass. Dope. Crank. Meth. An amphetamine derivative in the form of a crystalline hydrochloride. Used as a stimulant to the nervous system. High. Spun. Hopped up. Doped. Tripped out. Tweeked. Zoomed.

It controls you. Changes you. Breaks you down and rebuilds you. Nothing else matters. Not your house. Your bills. Your kids. Your job. The next fix. That’s all there is. That rush. That boost. Feeling alive. Being awake. Clean the house. Make some money.

No.

Generalities. Cold fact. Words…

See all the holes in the wall? Those are where the under cover’s had put the wires to listen in. And those trash bags covered with blankets stapled to the windows, those are to keep people from watching. Why is the carpet gone by the couch? Because that mother fucker hid some dope in here somewhere…I saw him messing around over there and I know he put that shit under the carpet. All these clothes are in a pile because I’m sorting through them. All my jewelry? I have it in a sandwich bag hidden in the fireplace so people don’t try to steal it. I took the TV apart so I can rig up a camera to watch the door so I know if people are sneaking up on the house.

“Did you hear that?”
“No.”
“Shh! The dog’s barking, fucking cops must be outside! Get on the floor!”
“Why get on the floor? The window’s are all covered?”
“FUCKING DO WHAT I SAY!”
“The dog’s probably barking because you haven’t fed her in a week.”

Three a.m. You’re 14. Your bedroom door swings open and screaming and profanities stream in. Before your eyes are even open you hear the sounds of breaking glass. The light comes on and you see your mother, naked and brandishing a hammer, screaming and smashing in the middle of your room. You can’t follow what she’s saying, it’s too sporadic. It’s too loud. You sit, stunned for a moment, taking in what is going on. Trying to make sense of a senseless situation. Then the hammer takes out your TV screen, and your pictures on the wall. You try to stand up but as you move, something flies at your head and shatters next to your ear. It’s a glass bowl. The screaming is getting louder and the hammer is finding more and more targets. The floor to ceiling mirror. The stereo. Knocking holes in the wall. Throwing object after object at you, who is still struggling to free yourself from the sheets. The noise. The chaos. And then the hammer comes at you, grazes your temple, and smashes through your bedroom window. You’re mother is trying to punch you at this point. You don’t know where the hammer is. She’s screaming in your face, you still can’t understand her. You can see the whites of her eyes as you try to squirm away. Her pupils are as big as dinner plates. By the time you’re out of your bed she’s trying to throw you into the wall. You try to restrain her but she’s so slick with sweat and squirming and fighting against you so hard that it’s like trying to hold onto a live fish. Your nose gets bloodied. All you can do at this point is try to get her out of your room, so you push her toward the door. She fights back but you catch her off guard with a hard shove the second time and she falls through the opening. You slam the door and lock it. She kicks and beats and punches the door until you hear the wood splinter on the outside and her let out a wail of pain. Then it stops. You sit back and try to take in everything that went on, but you still can’t comprehend what just happened. So you focus on the destruction. Your things destroyed. Your room, your sanctuary, in shambles. Glass everywhere. Blood on your face. A short while later an armed policewoman kicks in your door. Your mother had called the police and said that you’d attacked her and were out of control. The officer handcuffs you and puts you into the back of the car. And you cry.

Arguing from the next room. I turn up the TV to try to drown it out. It doesn’t work so I decided to go outside. As I stand up I hear a loud noise and feel a burn on my cheek. I hit the floor. Mother and her boyfriend are spun and fighting. And he shot at her. When it came through the wall it was so close to my head that I ended up with a powder burn on my left cheek.

“GET OUT!”
“What are you guys doing in my room?”
“GET THE FUCK OUT! NOW!”
“I need my backpack..”
The door slams and I turn and head up the stairs to catch the school bus without any of my books. As I’m almost up the stairs I’m passed by the people who were in my room.
“FUCKING RUN!”
And I did.
Boom. The lab blew and took many of my things with it. Why was it in my room when there was a whole basement around it?

You can just sit and watch people die when they’re cranking. It really reminds you of watching one of those videos in health class on fast forward. In a months time you can see someone physically change to an extreme. You can watch them loose weight and teeth and hair. If you weren’t there every day, you’d easily not recognize them in a short period of time. Being around this mess makes you numb to everything. There is nothing stable. There is nothing you can count on, it’s just a lot of waiting for the next horrible thing to happen. And it will. The neglect is remarkable. ’I’m not eating or sleeping so why should my kids?’ People in and out at all hours. Your possessions being stolen or traded for drugs. Even your pets. The kids dog, traded for a blast.

One day you’ll get that knock on the door. The police will drag you outside in cuffs and raid your house. Eventually, you’ll convince them that you’re only 15 and they’ll un-cuff you and make you sit in the back of the car. You know what’s coming. You see your mom trying to make a run for it, and being tackled. You see her get sprayed with mace and dragged back inside at gun point. What’s horrible about it is that you don’t feel anything. Nothing. You’re completely numb. Your dad comes to get you and your sister, who’s been inside through all of this. On your way through to get your clothes your mom tries to hug you, crying, and saying how much she loves you and how sorry she was. You don’t hug back. You’re too disgusted. She goes through the system and gets out of trouble, but doesn’t change her act. You see her on and off when she wants something or is trying to steal all your dad’s change off his dresser. Three years later she doesn’t even come to see you, her first born child, when she finds out that you had stomach cancer. And soon enough, she’s in prison.

Meth. It controls you. Changes you. Breaks you down and rebuilds you. Nothing else matters. Not your house. Your bills. Your kids. Your job. The next fix. That’s all there is. That rush. That boost. Feeling alive…

Excuse me for a moment while I try on my best Andy Rooney impersonation…

Ahem…Gargle…Ahem-Ahem…

Okay, here goes…

Have ya’ ever noticed that some people will get hung up on a catch phrase, or a word, and then use it to death?

Okay, well that impersonating thing hurts my throat so I’m gonna stop, but as to the above question, seriously…Have you ever noticed that? Well, obviously I have…

I guess my rant, in this case, is a bit targeted. What I mean is, I am aiming this at food/cooking shows in particular…Especially those on the Food Network, one of my favorite channels…Except for, as you must certainly notice, this little issue here.

There are two utterances in particular that are really starting to get on my nerves. Maybe it is the fact that I make my living with words that I am so sensitive to this, but in any case, here is my beef (do you like how I worked that food reference in there? [grin]).

1) The word “Off” – Now “off” is a fairly specific word meaning the opposite of “on”. Pretty easy to deal with, Not terribly obtrusive when used in its given context. It’s not even that bad when used as a brand name for oven cleaner. However, in the past year or so there has been this movement among those driving the kitchen to append this word to particular cooking verbs that, frankly, are fairly self explanatory. Sure, they might require the additional prefix of “slow” (as in slow roasted) or “pan” (as in pan seared) but they definitely have no need for a meaningless appendage hanging off their backsides dragging them down –

For instance… “First we take some poblano peppers, place them on a baking sheet and roast them OFF…”

Excuse me? Roast them “off” of what? Are you telling me that you want me to roast them under the broiler until they fall off the baking sheet? That really doesn’t make a whole hell of a lot of sense now does it?

Or, as I heard today… “Sprinkle cinnamon and sugar on the flour tortilla then bake it OFF for a few minutes…”

Bake it off? Are we having a contest of which I am unaware? The great tortilla bake-off? Or, am I supposed to bake it until all of the cinnamon and sugar comes off? That will be kind of hard because once the sugar starts to caramelize it will tend to glaze and bond with  the porous tortilla…Therefore, in order to get rid of the sugar I am going to have to burn this thing  beyond recognition, rendering it pretty much inedible…Wouldn’t it be better for me to just shake it so the cinnamon and sugar fall off? Or, here’s an idea – how about if I just don’t put the cinnamon and sugar on it to begin with and I won’t have a need to “insert verb here” it off. Saves time and gets the recipe done faster…

And, I’ve even repeatedly heard… “Then we take the tenderloin [or other cut of meat] and grill it OFF on each side…”

Again I ask, OFF of what? If it falls off the grill and into the coals it might not be all that tasty…if it missed the coals and ends up on the ground…well, let’s not go there. I’ve been there before and let’s just say beef brisket and sand don’t mix unless you are trying to clean your teeth or something…But, that is another story involving a barbecue, too much beer, an unstable Weber kettle, and a rousing game of Frisbee.

You know, I have no clue whatsoever how this trend began… This is merely a guess, but if I had to lay money I would say some tongue tied cook on a show accidentally tagged “off” to the end of something he was saying. Simple mistake, slip of the tongue, all good. BUT (you knew there would be one of those, right?) Some fruit loop heard it and thought “Hey, that sounds cool so I think I’ll start saying it so everyone will think I am some kind of important chef.” (Guess again, it makes you sound like a friggin’ idiot.)

The next thing you know everyone with a cooking show is appending “off” to the ends of their verbs. Honestly, kids, this has gotten waaaaayyyyyyy too ridiculous and out of hand. Drop the off, use the verbs as they are intended, and call it good. You’ll be amazed at how much more sense you will suddenly make.

This brings me to the next problem child…

2) “Flavorful” – Okay. Not a real problem in and of itself. It’s a word. It’s even a viable word that can certainly be used in conjunction with food or ingredients in recipes. It makes perfect sense. If you say it once or possibl;y twice…(although, personally I think once is quite enough…)

From where the idea came that the word “flavorful” was the one and only descriptor to be used while explaining food, I again have no clue. I can only say that I personally first noticed it when I accidentally landed the channel on the Food Network during a show featuring Tyler Florence. I say accidentally because Tyler just isn’t one of my favorites. I’m not a fan. I mean, I’m sure he’s a nice guy and he appears to know his way around the kitchen- he even has a stack of degrees to prove it- but in general his show and recipes simply fail to do anything for me, so I don’t watch him. (No offense intended, Tyler. But, let’s be honest – you probably don’t read my books either, so we’re even.)

Anyway, I digress… The thing is I stopped on that channel and there he was talking about a recipe. Much to my horror, in the span of 15 seconds he said the word “flavorful” 5 times. I think he even said it twice in one sentence.

Then, a short while later I saw him on an Applebees commercial…And there was that word again…I can’t remember for sure but I think he said it at least twice in the 5 second span he was talking, but don’t hold me to that… Even if I’m wrong and he said it only once that was more than enough. He’d already beaten it to death earlier and the fact that he was repeating it was proof enough to me that he was stuck on it and needed a date with a thesaurus.

I mean, even Emeril Lagasse was smart enough to back off on the trademark “BAM” after a while…Yeah, he still does it, but not every two seconds…

So, Tyler…come on. Depending on the particular ingredient there are a whole host of places you can go – delicious, tasty, delicate, savory, juicy, fresh, peppery, zesty, sweet, tangy, and mild, just to name a few…bursting with flavor, full of flavor…hell, even “full-flavored”… But, let’s give “flavorful” a rest, okay? It’s tired. You’ve stretched it way too thin and it just can’t cover the spread any longer…It really wants to go back to its page in the dictionary and take a nap…I, for one, really think you should let it…

Now, the thing that has really gotten under my skin about number two is that since Mister Florence has continued to use this word to to the exclusion of all other adjectives, suddenly some of my favorite folks on Food Network such as Alton Brown have started randomly tossing it out there too. Alton….Dude… Please don’t make me tune YOU out too…That would be a pity because I actually think you are a hoot…

Sooooo…at this point, theoretically, I suppose I should make them a deal…Something like “stop screwing with the language and I’ll stay out of the kitchen…” The problem here is that I am actually schooled to be in the kitchen. Perhaps not as much as they are, but schooled nonetheless… So, that makes it pretty hard for me to offer that deal…However, since there probably isn’t any danger of me getting myself a cooking show anytime soon, I’ll advance this compromise…

Y’all stop beating up the language and I won’t cook on TV.

‘Nuff said…

More to come…

Murv