Saturday, September 16, 2006

Saturday Night Live

Anybody else remember the first season of SNL? I actually watched most of it. I also wrote a grad school paper about SNL's early years.

I wanted to say a few more words about Ann Richards, whom I never met but for whom a friend of mine worked. He didn't work for her directly, but he worked to establish a program in Texas that she started, which was essentially corrections-based substance abuse treatment. She recognized that a lot of people who commit a lot of crimes are drunk, high, or both when they do their deeds, and that their addictions (and lack of skills, etc., which is often a result, in part, of their addictions) mean they're going to keep committing crimes until/unless they can find a recovery program. The programs in Texas were nine to twelve months long, in facilities that were dedicated to treatment: there was no general population to distract from recovery, and there were a lot of people, including guards with guns and other treatment program inmates with more recovery time, to help convince people that recovery was really the way to go. They were good, solid programs (no idea if they still exist or still are), and, as data from California and Oregon (I think) and other places has started to show, treatment is cheaper, over the medium and long term, than no treatment, even taking into account that some people will not stay sober. Helping people fight their addictions means those people won't be committing more crimes and means they're likely to become tax-paying citizens. Everybody wins. And Ann Richards, perhaps because of her own background (she was in recovery), recognized that and implemented it.

So one of the specialty cakes we make is called, euphemistically, a "torso" cake (I think I've told you this before; if so, apologies. I'm too lazy to look). It's just that: a torso, from the neck to the pubes. You can get a female or a male; the male version features an erect penis (and, if you ask for it, ejaculate, in the form of white buttercream icing, dripping from it). Jefe said the females are more difficult to construct, because it's difficult to get the breasts the same size; I told him not to worry, that they often differ in size in real life. The underpinnings of the breasts are two doughnuts topped by cupcakes; the shaping is done with icing. In the nearly nine months I've been there, I've only seen one female, but we probably do two to five males a month. The underpinning of the penis is a churro; we keep a stash in the freezer, and then thaw them in the oven as needed. As Johnnie went to put one in the oven yesterday, the conversation went something like this:

Johnnie: For a white guy, you only need a half of a churro.
Brad: For a Mexican guy, you only need a quarter.
Jefe: You could use a mini cannoli shell [they're about three inches long].

Johnnie did one yesterday and one today, and they were both white guys (you can request white, black, hispanic, whatever); Johnnie went a little heavy on the red, such that both of them looked seriously sunburnt. It was kind of painful to see.

Otherwise, I'm tired. I finished a side project, and I've got another one on the table (literally; the RFP is spread out on the kitchen table), and I'm working Sunday and Monday at the bakery this week so I can take off next Friday and Saturday. Four whole days off in a row! I haven't had more than three days off since last December, and the only time I had three days it was to fly to my parents' anniversary party and back, so this is really the closest thing I'm getting to a vacation this year. But it's a good one: I'm going to see the last race of the Champ Car World Series, at Road America. I've seen two open-wheel races in person this season, one Champ Car race (the Milwaukee Mile) and one IRL race (last week in Joliet), but they were both ovals; this is a road race, and it sounds really interesting. As my friend put it, I'll get to see not just high speeds but braking--and going from one to the other. (Many road race courses are set in cities, which is a whole other thing.)

We're not going up there until early Saturday morning, so I'll have Friday to do errands--including, I hope, getting my hair trimmed. It hasn't been trimmed since February (!), which means it looks like weasels chew on the ends at night while I sleep. I haven't gone this long without a trim in many years; normally I got it done every three months or so. Partly it's timing: the woman who cuts my hair is off on Sundays and Mondays, and, hey, so am I! Partly it's money: the salon at which she works now isn't particularly cheap, and I overtip her wildly (which might explain why she did my hair for free for the wedding). Partly it's that my hair spends most of its time up (I use these, and I love them), and it's not like I have to look all that presentable most of my waking hours, so spending the money has seemed not that urgent. But since I'll actually have an opportunity, I'm going to take it, if she has an opening. If not, I'll do it in October, when I'll have off on a Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday so I can attend a bread class with one of the best bakers in the country, Jeff Hamelman. (Did I mention that Jefe offered to split the $825 cost of the class with me? Which I thought was nice of him.)

Meanwhile, Dave had a job interview Friday--cross your fingers for him, light a candle, say a prayer, leave an offering for Ganesh, whatever works for you--or, more to the point, for him.


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