I had some leftover Fetuccini AlBundy from a couple of nights ago that I just finished eating for dinner. When I first made it, I was so hungry I just wanted to scarf it down quick. But now, since I didn’t have to spend time cooking, I was able to take time and catch my dinner in action. So, here it is… in slo-mo!
First, striking a pose for the camera.
Alright, time to chow down.
Hmm, looks like it needs a dash of hot sauce. Anything needs a dash of hot sauce, really.
Whoa! That was good. Let me put some more hot sauce on it, then!
Taking a break to wipe my sticky face.
Ahhh! Fat and happy!
That’s it!
Later people… I need to jog off all that bacon out of my system.
Okay, so it’s just Fetuccini Alfredo, really… with some tasty bells & whistles added for boosted comfort factor. I happen to nonchalantly whip it up for dinner while watching a Married… with Children rerun, last night. It turned out so good though I forgot what episode it was. So, try it and you’ll choke with a mouthful before you can start to scream… Peg!!!
Oh yeah, and get them running shoes ready. You will need to burn big time calories afterwards.
Fetuccini AlBundy
1 16oz. pkg Fetuccini Pasta
1 pint Heavy Whipping Cream
4 big cloves of Garlic, minced
8 oz. grated Parmigiano-Reggiano (don’t skimp or don’t blame me)
1 12 oz. pkg. Bacon (per serving)
1 cup frozen Peas or Broccoli (fantastic guilt reducer)
1/4 cup finely-chopped Flat-Leaf Parsley, for garnish
Fresh Cracked Black Pepper, no salt (the cheese and bacon will sufficiently supply the salt factor)
First order of things… ring up some friends and invite them over for a night of serious eats.
Now, in a dutch oven or heavy duty pot, cook bacon till very crisp. Drain strips in paper towel. Transfer drippings into a container for later use, but leave in a couple of tablespoons worth in the pot. Turn down heat to low, add garlic and sweat for 5 minutes. Now, turn heat to medium-low and add cream and pepper. Stir for about 10 minutes, making sure cream doesn’t boil over.
Hey, I didn’t say it was a 30-minute meal! You’re still with me?
Good. Keep stirring. Now, this would be a good time to drop the pasta into the salted boiling water. You did boil water earlier, didn’t you? Tsk, tsk! Anyhow, cook that bad boy to al bundy, err, al dente. About 10 minutes.
While that’s going, go ahead and add the grated cheese and frozen veggies into the cream mixture. Stir for another 5 minutes or until cheese is completely melted and incorporated. Add more pepper if necessary.
When pasta is cooked, set on a plate or bowl and ladle sauce on top. Crumble the bacon and garnish with parsley.
I love the calmness of my new neighborhood. Outside my front door is a porch overlooking the great wide open. For a moment, I stand outside in the cold. The only sound I hear is that of the wind howling and blowing the snow off the railings. The air releases a fresh scent like sweet mountain dew. Ahhh…
And there’s no one outside. Except for a quick moment, a young couple walks up to their apartment. They happen to be my next door neighbors. So, what do decent neighbors do in the least, but give each other the obligatory pleasantries, right? This is Pleasantville, after all.
Or is it?
It’s only been a short while since it stopped snowing. And the sun seems to be enjoying its short reign. Though at this time, I couldn’t stand the cold any longer, so I head on back inside my warm and cozy pad. It’s a normal late afternoon, like any other. I come home from work and cook dinner, do my email chores, watch a little TV, listen to last.fm and finally, I hit the sack.
It’s only 8pm and I have no problem retiring this early. Oh no, not right now. I turn off the lamp and away to dreamland I go. Yes, I’m gone like a baby on a full tank of Gerber.
A couple of hours into hibernation mode, however, I awake to a loud banging of my bedroom wall. The side my head is almost touching, as a matter of fact. I open my eyes and lift my head up to the rude and disturbing sound of moans, groans and grunts. Oh, great! And I thought my wall was going to come down. It’s alive, it’s alive, I thought! I am half awake at this point. Hence, it takes me a few seconds to realize that my friendly neighbors are, in fact, a little too close for my own comfort.
To be honest, I came to be amused by this rumbling event, for the next minute or two. But, come on now… when you really need to sleep, it kinda gets old real quick. Having to cover my head with pillows gets annoying, eventually. Especially, when the noise is too loud to mask, to begin with. And next thing you know, it’s freakin’ two in the morning!
And they’re still at it???
I mean, I can appreciate the enthusiasm but, what’s in it for me, at this point?
So, I stand up and head to the bathroom. I look in the mirror and realize… I might not be in Pleasantville, after all.
Though, I’m glad the moving is over with. Yes, I’m finally settled in my shiny new place. And getting some rest.
But, what a crazy week and a half it has been! You see, About 13 years ago or so, I went cliff diving in Hawaii and damaged my back after a 50 foot jump. Never did it again, but I never recovered from it either. Now, the pain seemed to have accelerated after I did a lot of moving by myself every single night, last week. I was too anxious to wait for the weekend. Besides, I didn’t want to scare the neighbors with the sight of seven guitars, three amps, a drum set and a whole bunch of other musical gear marching into their little Pleasantville, in broad daylight! So, I had to sneak them all in late at night, when everyone’s in bed and feeling safe. He he! We’ll see how much longer till they find out about the new kid on the block.
But I think I’ll be nice and keep the volume down. Especially, right now. Like I said, I’m just tired and simply want to get some rest, at the moment. So, I’ll do that. And hopefully, my back will forgive me, as well.
First, I’d like to give Selma a big thanks for she deemed me worthy of such an honorable award. Thank you, my friend! I will always remember that you deserve it first.
Anyhow, I was reading her latest post, The Sound Of Time A-Passing, earlier today. For some reason, I felt a little depressed afterwards. Perhaps, because I am at the same point in life as she is now. Although, sometimes I get busy with my own life that I forget about time and how it affects my relationship with my own family. It’s not easy for me to constantly think about my family as they are on the other side of the planet and I don’t get to see them often. Maybe once every twenty years. Yep, not much. Told ya.
This past week, I have also been wrapped up with packing and cleaning and getting ready for my big move this weekend. I might not even be on here for a few days while all this transitioning takes place.
But, back to family. I can’t tell you how many times I have woken up in the middle of the night, with tears in my eyes, wondering how much time is left until my aging parents finally depart. They’re in their early 70’s now. When I left home in the mid 80’s, my dad was tough like Goodfellas. Now, it’s like I’m watching Cocoon.
Anyhow, I didn’t mean to rattle off on this topic. After all, this post is about a song I wrote. It is installment number two of my Songs about Heaven series. On this one, I’m expressing heaven in the form of the house I grew up in. Not that it is anything comparable, in the least. But when you’re a kid growing up, it is the only place you know. It is the greatest place. And it is yours. This house is where you find security. This is where your innocence comes from. In this house, you might even have your own room. This room is where you build your personal sanctuary. It’s where you carve your very own identity. Yours was probably painted with an outrageous color. It’s where you have the coolest things flaunted like trophies. Like a stereo system (mine had a turntable to boot). Posters of KISS on the wall (at least for me, this was the case). And still, after a hard days work in school or a rough play with your next-door friends outside, you always come home to mom and dad. All muddy and hungry, sometimes. Hollering as you go into your room to change… “what’s for dinner, mom?”
Yeah, that’s home, alright. And one day, I know I will be back. Just like when I was little. But this time, it will be a little different. A good kind of different. And I so look forward to it, like you wouldn’t believe.
In My House
i remember sitting on the gutter at my parents’ place
playing barefoot with the neighbors’ kids down our street
recalling days of youth as if they were just the other day
no i still can’t seem to scrub the dirt off my feet
cause in my house hangs a picture of a sunny sky
and in my house hangs a picture of yesterday waving goodbye
and in my house there’s an old chair that my father gave to me
and i sit there in the afternoon as i try to rest in my dreams
winter comes and winter goes and, uh, it always seems that way
but i swear it never gets any colder than this, no no
and time may slow and time may flow but in the end it all goes away
but when the bell begins to toll there’s nothing i would miss here
cause in my house hangs a picture of a sunny sky
and in my house hangs a picture of yesterday waving goodbye
and in my house there’s an old chair that my father gave to me
and i sit there in the afternoon as i try to rest in my dreams
i try to rest in my dreams
and the water it streams when you rest in your dreams
i remember driving my car in the pouring rain
and you were with me though i know that day you didn’t want to
my thoughts they always used to haunt me like a man insane
though the scars remain forever
may forever be with you, yeah
cause in my house hangs a picture of the morning sky
and in my house hangs a picture of yesterday waving goodbye
and in my house there’s an old chair that my father gave to me
and i sit there in the afternoon, yeah, uh huh
yes in my house hangs a picture of a diamond’s glow
and in my house hangs a picture of tomorrow saying hello
and in my house there’s an old chair that my father gave to me
and i sit there in the afternoon as i try to rest in my dreams
Nine more days to go and I’m off to my brand new flat! I’m so excited and anxious, I can hardly wait. I just want to do this and be there already. Thoughts of this reminded me of a time when nine out of ten songs I wrote was about heaven.
Why do you think it is? I believe, I’ve always been a positive thinker and would always look forward to tomorrow being a better day than today. The downside is that I couldn’t enjoy today as much because I was too busy focusing on tomorrow. It’s almost like a child that couldn’t sleep in excitement realizing that when he/she wakes up, the family is going on a trip to Disneyland. How could you possibly sleep, alright?
Now, I’m not sure how many songs about heaven I’ve actually managed to write and record through the years but I can imagine it being at least half of all my songs. That’s how much I love the idea of it.
A lot of us have our own vision of heaven. Some people see it as walking in the clouds. Some think it’s a castle. I mean, the possibilities are endless. In my opinion, there’s just no way we can even be close to describing its sheer beauty. It goes beyond our wildest imagination, for sure.
When you attempt to cram the idea of heaven in a song, you don’t even want to try to be perfect. To humble yourself by keeping it down to human levels, I think, is the best possible description you can make.
I see heaven in different ways. Each song I write describes it in ways I can see with human eyes and experience with human emotions. That’s all I can do, really.
Since, every once in a while, I post a music blog, I thought it would be nice to showcase a set of songs about heaven. One post at a time, that is. So this is part one. And the first song is called Welcome to the Ball. This song describes heaven as a ballroom party. Like a high school prom, perhaps. There are scenes of dancing, conversations, food buffet and a fountain out in the garden where you can walk and enjoy the breeze. The venue? At a fancy hotel sitting atop a fluffy cloud. It’s a whimsical description with the overall theme of happiness, celebration and good company. And by the way… I just got an invitation!
Did you get yours yet?
Welcome to the Ball
Stand up by the fountains in the sky
Stars lay in your eyes
Pick a flower in my little garden
And roam with the butterflies
Hide your head in the clouds above
Fill your plate with mounds of love
Have some fruit, oh by the way
I love your suit but do you feel alright
Here you wait a moment till the gates are opened
Then you’ll see the light
Let your little flower grow
Cuz when I call you need to know
And take with you everyone you meet
Cuz here we go
Welcome to the ball
We can talk forever at the ball
You can chase your blues away
Welcome to the ball
Fill your cup with laughter at the ball
And you can dance the night away… come on
Yeah, yeah, yeah…
Come on up, help yourself at the table
And don’t forget to taste the wine, no no
And take a stroll down the gallery
Where snapshots of your memories
Hang down the line
See the courtyard by the pool
Here you’ll find the breeze is cool
Come and meet everybody
Cuz here we go
Welcome to the ball
We can talk forever at the ball
You can chase your blues away
Welcome to the ball
Fill your cup with laughter at the ball
And you can dance the night away… come on
You would think, it would be easy to list five songs that you deem poetic in their lyrical style. However, knowing me, it didn’t take much time at all for my thoughts to be flooded with countless choices. And, it has since become a chore narrowing it down to such a stifling number.
But thanks to Selma, nonetheless, for tagging me to do this meme. I thought it was an interesting one, if only to challenge myself to really think. So, here’s what I came up with. And, I better write them down quick, before I change my mind. Again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Blackbird – The Beatles
There’s no way for me to think of music without the Beatles being mixed in there, in some way. I was going to choose Helter Skelter, at first. But then, I thought of Eleanor Rigby, too. And then, Come Together. And then, The Fool on the Hill. And then… oh, stop, Chris. Pick one and move on. Okay, I did.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Hurt – Nine Inch Nails
I thought, this song already stands proudly on its own. But, if Johnny Cash decides he wants to cover it in his own record, it makes it all the more valid as poetry. In my book, anyway.
I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that’s real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Echoes – Pink Floyd
Can you say Duet Poetry? It’s the only one I can name from their repertoire that has Gilmour and Wright singing together. A gorgeous combination, I think. Anyhow, most, if not all of their songs can pass as poetry, really. I just have to pick one that stands out to me, right away. I think, David Gilmour’s writing/singing is just as mesmerizing as his guitar licks, which I fondly call… Strat poetry.
Overhead the albatross
Hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves
In labyrinths of coral caves
An echo of a distant time
Comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine
Okay, the song is about 18 minutes long, I think. It’s divided into two parts. If you’re so inclined, here’s part two. And, if you’re a hardcore fan, like I am (hey, I own this Video), it’s worth every minute.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The Rain Song – Led Zeppelin
I was able to narrow it down to the songs from Houses of the Holy. It was tough, but like I said, I had to pick one and move on. The way Robert Plant is singing this song is almost like he’s reading prose on top of an epic film score. Simply beautiful.
These are the seasons of emotion
Like the winds they rise and fall
This is the wonder of devotion
I see the torch we all must hold.
This is the mystery of the quotient
Upon us a little rain must fall
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Saturday Night Special – Lynyrd Skynyrd
In the spirit of my having spent a time of my life in the Southern USA, I can’t deny the influence its distinct culture had on me. This is hick poetry at its finest, bub. I still love it because it’s real. Crude, but real.
Two feet they come-a-creepin’
Like a black cat do
And two bodies-a-layin’ naked
Creeper think he got nothin’ to lose
So he creeps into this-a-house and
Unlocks the door
And as a man’s reachin’ for his trousers
Shoots him full of-a-thirty-eight holes
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There you have it. Whew! Adding a few hundred more could’ve been much easier, probably. But, oh well…
Now, it’s my turn to tag… he he he!!! Bekki, Hermi, Chris, Tracie? Are you there? You’re it!!!
Well, it’s a good thing that this weekend is a long one. At least, for lucky me, it is. For three days, I get to prepare for my big move at the end of the month, by doing some cleaning, sorting and packing.
It’s amazing how much stuff you realize you have, when you’re packing. I don’t know about you, but me… I ain’t no pack rat, by any stretch of the imagination. I always make sure that I don’t keep things I don’t use in a year or two, more or less. Be it clothes, furniture, appliances, whatever. If possible, I’d rather have an empty space than useless clutter (although, my clutter may be someone else’s treasure).
Yeah. Stuff. Sometimes, you need them. Sometimes, they just sit there, taking up valuable real estate and gathering dust. And, what’s worse is that you sometimes need to carry them off from the old place to the new one, with absolutely no logical reason, whatsoever. So this weekend, I arranged for almost half of what I own to be picked up by the Salvation Army. Crazy? Always! Yep, I could’ve done a yard sale but I opted to simply donate a roomful of unused goods instead. Free printer, scanner, CD changer, two beds, a couch, coffee table, portable heater, box fan, two juice extractors, office swivel chairs, assorted kitchen appliances and utensils, folding picnic chairs, flower vases and tons more. I feel so much lighter already!
However, all this packing is so exhausting, it made me want to take a little breather and have some laugh. It’s a good way to unwind. And, what better way to do this than to get a dose of classic George Carlin. So, here you go. In this routine, he yaks about, what else… stuff.
Okay, so it’s just Fetuccini Alfredo, really… with some tasty bells & whistles added for boosted comfort factor. I happen to nonchalantly whip it up for dinner while watching a 
A couple of hours into hibernation mode, however, I awake to a loud banging of my bedroom wall. The side my head is almost touching, as a matter of fact. I open my eyes and lift my head up to the rude and disturbing sound of moans, groans and grunts. Oh, great! And I thought my wall was going to come down. It’s alive, it’s alive, I thought! I am half awake at this point. Hence, it takes me a few seconds to realize that my friendly neighbors are, in fact, a little too close for my own comfort.
Now, I’m not sure how many songs about heaven I’ve actually managed to write and record through the years but I can imagine it being at least half of all my songs. That’s how much I love the idea of it.
Chris Alma José 