6-Word Saturday: Deadline

Today's explanation will be longer than the post. In honor of Papa Hemingway ("My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way."), an idea borrowed from Poetry & Hums: 6-Word Saturday.

Please participate in this effort in economy...go to Show My Face to sign Mr. Linky!

Computer nuked the newspaper. Everything vanished!

-or-

All that work evaporates into Cyberspace.

-or-

Cherubs shriek. 12 pages gone. Chaos!

Oh, Say, Can You See?

As you may recall from a Recent Friday Foto Finish Fiesta Snap, Mrs. Scribe's Lil Sis visited over Christmas. The gal is flat-out a great photog, ain't she? The Washington Monument is center-left in this Superior Snap, with the Tidal Basin and the Jefferson Memorial taking up positions in the center and on the right, respectively. If you follow the National Mall diagonally to the upper right from the Washington Monument, you can just make out a teeny tiny US Capitol at the end of the stretch of green.

Playing along today with Candid Carrie & Fx4!

Snow Day Sustenance

We've already discussed the Snow Day Half Day ad nauseum, correctamundo? So we'll go on to sunnier snow-related topics today.

Don't you just love the 2 snaps Mrs. Scribe snagged before she Left The Building? There's a certain artistic symmetry, oui? Shot with a Cannon PowerShot A550; a posession of the Yearbook Staff. Thought the faculty parking lot looked a tad lonely, shot between the 43-year-old blinds. We kid you not: The blinds in Mrs. Scribe's Classroom were first installed in 1966. Talk about vintage!

Yesterday, natch, was a Full-Fledged, Superintendent Man-Approved Day Off for all teachers & staff. Only "essential personnel" were supposed to report. Not quite sure what makes them so essential, but Mrs. Scribe knows she definitely does not belong in that club!

Spent the day catching up on This & That. Penned a pretty sweet Guest Post for Mr. Teacher. It's scheduled to run today, so Click Here to check it out! And yes, thank you...I do believe I'll count it as my contribution toward the 2009 Random Complexity Writing Challenge. Word Count: 436.

And cooked up a mean pot of chili, too. Snow Days always inspire the best in us, and Mrs. Scribe is no exception. She concocted this recipe during a cold week spent in a mountain cabin with Mr. Scribe, too many years ago to count. She cooked & tasted & added & tasted until she felt satisfied enough to let it simmer in peace. Your Humble Scribe, we should note, is famous in these here parts for her Lost River Chili, named after the West Virginia locale where this delicacy was born. This chili's got a Texas Twang, so watch out, pardners!

Lost River Chili, a Mrs. Scribe "Original"

1/2-lb. bacon

4.5 lbs. ground beef

2 onions

1 green pepper

2 cans Rotel diced tomatoes & green chilis

1 package taco mix

6 tbs. chili powder

1 tsp. thyme

sprinkle each of oregano, black pepper

2+ cloves garlic, depending on your tastebuds

16 oz. (or 2 small cans) tomato sauce

2 cans pinto beans

1 tbs. cumin.

1 tsp. dried cilantro

1 beer

Cut up the bacon & start frying it up in the bottom of a deep chili pot. When the bacon looks about ready, add the ground beef gradually, so it can brown, too. In the meantime, cut up the veggies & add them to the pot, stirring the whole mixture up several times. Then add the canned goods and the spices. Stir everything together. Finally, add the beer (if you don't drink, don't worry; the alcohol burns off in the cooking process) and about 4 Rotel cans of water. Bring to a boil, then simmer for about 3 hours. If you want to cook it longer, just keep adding water. But not too much...there's nothing worse than watery chili! Serve with chopped onions & shredded cheese on top, accompanied by a mean mess o' corn bread.

A Note from Mrs. Scribe: Yes, yes, I know. Texas chili isn't supposed to have beans. Whatever. That's why this is a hybrid. It was born in West Virginia, after all. We had enough leftovers to save it for Sunday's Super Bowl. Mission Accompished!

Snow Day Angel

Today's Post almost skidded out of control. We had inane teacher inservices on the brain. And snow.

On a good day, driving DC's Beltway, that 66-mile, 8-lane ribbon of asphalt that hugs the District & its Inner Suburbs like your grandma's out-of-date girdle, is a pretty dicey proposition. Mrs. Scribe negotiates 10 miles of this fume-infested Heaven~each way~every day. A pretty sight it's not.

Mrs. Scribe was up & at 'em again yesterday morning. Only this time making the drive in the first tentative bursts of this area's first major storm of the year. Let's just say that visions of tractor trailers were dancing in her head!

The 2, 416 Cherubs who attend Our Humble High School were all fast asleep. To commemorate the end of the semester, the teachers had what is known in the profession as a work day. No kids. Only crap.

As the English Department Chair remarked~twice~to a gathered throng at the first of many planned (dare we say "moronic"?) meetings, "If the kids had to be here, nobody would be here." In other words, if the District had had to haul its fleet of buses out in weather such as this, Superintendent Man would have cancelled school altogether.

So Mrs. Scribe fumed a little. Slung a choice selection of not-so-savory slang around. But things brightened up when Superintendent Man~apparently~saw the error of his ways.

About halfway thru our second stellar session, the PA crackled to life.

"Attention, teachers. The snow seems to be increasing. All sessions will end at noon today." And then a sympathetic Assistant Principal~who commutes 60 miles each way, each day from Fredericksburg~passed the word that we could go when we pleased.

Mrs. Scribe was pleased to vacate her duties immediately, if not sooner. Just like Elvis, she Left The Building.

Much ice and other scary substances have made this a.m.'s commute an impossibility. All is right with the world.

He's the Cats' Meow

This story, which appeared last nite on The CBS Evening News, spoke to Mrs. Scribe. Your Humble Scribe, of course, is a Cat Woman. But more than that, she's a sucker for compassion.

Jonathan Rosenberg is a Saint. Paradox aside, the man has a tender heart. In a world of hurt, Rosenberg has found one way to ease the pain.

300 Posts: Who Knew?

Your Humble Scribe started this Blogging Janx last March. March 31, 2008, to be precise. Since then, Mrs. Scribe has been a regular in the Blogosphere.

So much has happened, which we tried dutifully to note in this space. A student committed suicide. We commemorated the First Anniversary of the Virginia Tech Massacre, which claimed a 2005 graduate of Our Humble High School. We bid "adieu" to seasoned newspaper & yearbook staffs, & welcomed the rookies. Ella Numera Dos graduated from high school. We inaugurated The Scholastic Scribe's Silly Summer Sunday Sweepstakes, which was turned into Sx3 come Fall. We chronicled Ella Numera Una as she continued learning the value of helping those who have a hard time helping themselves. We journeyed to Asbury Park, NJ, & had our One & Only Bloggy Giveaway. We grieved over the deaths of a colleague & a former student.

As the school year commenced once more, we contemplated so much, including September 11, 2001. We celebrated 200 Blog Posts, inaugurated a Very Special Award, found the best shell ever on the beach, and lost a brand-new bloggy friend. We supported Hot Tub Lizzy's Run for President, & admired Barack Obama's physique and well as his tenacity. We made fun of Sarah Palin. In fact, we made fun of her More than Once. We chronicled The Life of a High School Journalism teacher, including The Big Burrito Break-Out. We chronicled The Life of a Commuter, including The Great Semi-Truck, Semi-High-Speed Chase.

In the Dawn of 2009, we criticized the media for their selfishness, then praised the media for their sense of justice. We tried to stick to our exercise regimen, & realized that old folks like Mrs. Scribe sometimes have much more gumption than one might think. We redesigned The Scholastic Scribe; at least the best we knew how. And along this journey, Mrs. Scribe found Her Voice.

Today we celebrate another milestone. Certainly, 300 blog posts is nothing to sneeze at. We understand the commitment involved. And so, we'd like to honor 5 Superior Scribblers, who certainly deserve recognition.

To the 5 who are being honored today: The Superior Scribbler Award, which was originated in October 2008 by Mrs. Scribe, applauds your Tenacity, your Humbleness, your Greatness & your Sense of Self. Today, we're recognizing 5 Wonderful Bloggers who also have found their respective voices. Please follow these Rules, so we can keep the tradition of The Superior Scribbler alive:

1. Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.
2. Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.
3. Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to This Post, which explains The Award.
4. Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit This Post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List. That way, we'll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives this Prestigious Honor! Mr. Linky was working this morning, so make sure to Sign Mr. Linky Here, and then leave a comment!
5. Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.

Now that we've Dispatched with the Formalities, cue the drumroll, please. The Recipients of The Scholastic Scribe's Superior Scribbler Award are:

• Teri: She's a recent College Grad & has Law School in her sights. She also has phenomenal '70s style!
• MammaDawg: The Original Kick-Ass Blogger is most certainly an Original!
• Pseudononymous High School Teacher: Well, she lives in Hawaii, which is an award in itself. But beyond that, she Rocks the House, yo!
• Tara at The Cupcake Cafe: She popped up on Mrs. Scribe's radar screen in early December, in answer to a What's the Word Wednesday Challenge. Something about oxymorons? But there's nothing oxymoronic about this gal!
• Columbia Lily: She deserves an award for living in Abilene, much less teaching there for a while. Now she's located to the more moderate clime of the Pacific Northwest. Plus, she teaches sophomores. Plus, she's a Cat Woman.

That's All, Folks! Thanks for putting up with our Rants, our Rages & our Random Accusations over the last 10 months. And here's to 300 posts more!

Silly Sunday Sweepstakes: From the Frying Pan Into...

Snagged this Superior Snap from Karla over at Zander and Me. Eons ago, it seems. The Z-Man was playing with his farm critters & This Little Piggy went to...go figure!

All you Sx3 Veterans know what to do. Take a gander at this Super Snap, then Conjure a Caption. Hit Ye Olde Comments Button & Tippy-Type Said Caption, quick like a bunny, and there you have it.

Of course, you win nothing tangible, durable, or worth anything for participating. Just Mrs. Scribe's undying love & affection. And that's enough, ain't it?

Editor's Note: Mrs. Scribe is celebrating 300 Posts tomorrow...can y'all believe it?

The Bling That Refreshes

Oh, Marvelous Marrdy has gifted Mrs. Scribe with The Lemonade Award. Marrdy was quite effusive in her praise of Your Humble Scribe: "Melissa's blog is where I go if I want to brighten my day," our Bloggy Friend reports. "She teaches High School and deserves a Congressional Medal of Honor as far as I'm concerned!"

Hmmmmmmm...did you ever study a cute little ol' literary device in high school English known as Hyperbole, Marrdy? But you know Your Intrepid Scribe. She'll take compliments anywhere she can get 'em. So thank you very kindly!

Part of the onus of receiving this Bit o' Bloggy Bling is to follow the rules. Well, ya know, we're all Big Rule-Followers around here. So, forthwith, those we name at the end of this post must do the following:

1. Put the logo on your blog or post.
2. Select at least 10 blogs which show great attitude or gratitude!!!
3. Be sure to link your winners with your post.
4. Let them know they received the award by leaving a comment on their most recent post on their blog.
5. Share the love and link this post to the person who gave you the award!

Check, check, check, check and check! Our temps were up in the 60s today, kiddos, so a glass of lemonade seems appropriate before Old Man Winter arrives again. Melissa B., THE Scholastic Scribe, names these good folks for their, as the rules say, "attitude or gratitude"!

1. If Mom Says OK
2. Deanna's Corner
3. Lady Styx's Blog
4. Regurgitated Alpha Bits
5. Susie's Homemade
6. Zander and Me
7. Epic Adventures are Often Uncomfortable
8. Half-Past Kissin' Time
9. Happy Chyck Wonders
10. Life, Liberty and the Pursuit

Use this award to quench your metaphorical thirst, fellow bloggers. And don't forget mañana's Silly Sunday Sweepstakes. It's far from being a pig in a poke!

Fx4: Plastic Politicians?

President Obama is only 4 inches tall in this rendering of Tuesday's Inauguration. In fact, the Chief Justice looks a like he's got just a smidge more height than the Prez, which clearly isn't the case in Real Life.

The Nerds (we use the word lovingly) at Legoland California crafted more than 1,000 plastic dignitaries for a display honoring the 56th Presidential Inauguration, which runs thru Memorial Day. The case could be made that all politicians are Plastics. Like Mean Girls, only w/o the "burn book."

Photo by Graham Whitby Boot. Want to make sure we give Proper Credit, correct? Playing along with Candid Carrie's Friday Foto Finish Fiesta? Priceless!

Burn Her At the Stake!

Someone in the Blogosphere finally perturbed & outraged Mrs. Scribe enough for her to utter an epithet.

*Damn*!

The time? Late afternoon, Monday. The place? The kitchen. The reason?

The Plagiarist lifted an entire poignant post from Our Gal Tara R., representing it as her own. No credit to Tara. Nada. Zilch. Zippo.

Tara's original post rings true. She comes out right up front and spills about that ugly, gnawing feeling we've all had as parents: Guilt. The Original, entitled "Mom Guilt Never Ends," reaches right down inside us and pulls our guts inside out. The piece begins in with a down-to-earth declaration that cannot be denied:

"When I signed on for this mom gig I was unprepared for the amount of guilt that it involved." Simple. Declarative. So very true. Tara R. wrote that. On September 25, 2007. On her blog, If Mom Says OK.

Imagine Our Gal Tara's utter surprise Monday when she opened up the blog of one of her alleged "cyber friends." She saw The Plagiarist's Post, adorned with the same title, uttering the same poignant words that she herself had penned more than one year ago.

Imagine Mrs. Scribe's chagrin that a grownup doesn't know that copying without credit is cheating. We all learned this lesson in elementary school. Well, most of us, anyway.

The rules are quite clear at Our Humble High School. Lifting prose from another person is a crime, plain & simple. The Modern Language Association (MLA), whose style manual most Veteran Scribes rely upon, lays down the law in black & white.

"Whenever you quote or base your ideas on another person's work," the MLA says, "you must document the source you used. Even when you do not quote directly from another work, if reading that source contributed to the ideas presented in your paper, you must give the authors proper credit."

See how we inserted Credit where Credit is Due? Not that difficult. But a perusal of The Plagiarist's site shows she is shallow, with ideas about knee-deep to a grasshopper. And that's being kind to the grasshopper!

After seeing The Plagiarist's Post, Tara went from baffled to just plain pissed. "A co-worker told me that maybe I should see this as flattering," she said in an e-mail to Mrs. Scribe. "I tried to explain to him that for a writer, and especially a journalist, stealing someone's words was never flattering...If she had given me attribution I probably would have left her a nice comment, thanking her for the recognition."

For those of you Bloggers out there who don't know it, your work is protected under the Digital Millenium Copyright Act. Blogger, where The Plagiarist makes her home, details our right to protect ourselves from such smarmy ilk as she. Click Here for more info. Tara turned us on to this Blogger service, BTW. See? Credit where Credit is Due. It's not brain surgery, people!

Tara also informed the Blogosphere in a recent post that she had "prepared my written, formal complaint to Google/ Blogger regarding what I believe to be the blatant theft of my property, my words, my memories."

The Plagiarist needs to Pay. She should be burned at the metaphorical stake, we say. Tara, however, has a much more level head.

"I'm very glad I decided to pursue my complaint," Tara says. "She is either a complete idiot or incredibly shameless."

*Damn*!

Editor's Note: The artist's rendering that accompanies this post is called "Witch Hunt," by MedeAthena.

What's the Word Wednesday: When Rhyme is Fine

The Rev. Joseph Lowery, a veteran of the Civil Rights Movement, gave the Benediction at President Obama's swearing-in yesterday. A cute little 87-year-old grandpa, with funky facial hair, and vocal chords that have been lost to history.

The Scribe Family felt a tad like they were in church. In a Hard Rock, Southern Baptist kinda way.

That is until this sprang from the grizzled old man's gravelly gullet, toward the end of the prayer:

Lord, in the memory of all the saints

who from their labors rest,

and in the joy of a new beginning,

we ask you to help us work for that day

when black will not be asked to get in back...

when brown can stick around...

when yellow will be mellow...

when the red man can get ahead, man...

and when white will embrace what is right.

That all those who do justice and love mercy say, "Amen."

And the crowd did. Do you think Dubya was looking for Divine Intervention in the snap above? And Laura, who usually is so gracious & sweet, looks downright perturbed.

It's a New Day

If you and I made it this far

Well then hey, we can make it all the way...

It's you and me together.

~will.i.am...11-7-08~

Grandmama Obama is in the Howse!

OK, that's Not Quite Correct. Her name, actually, is Marian Robinson, & she's Michelle Obama's Mama. Word has it that the First Granny will be moving into the White House with the Obamas this month. How cool is that?

The arrangements, actually, make a lot of sense. Mrs. Robinson is the Obama Caregiver of First Resort anyway. She was the one who looked after Sasha & Malia while Daddy was on the Campaign Trail with Mama Obama. Oh, we're going to have too much fun with that surname, ain't we?

The Obama Transition Team, for the record, reports that Michelle's Mama is moving in temporarily to help the Obamas get settled. The First Granny has yet to decide if she wishes to leave her South Side Chicago bungalow for that Upscale Crib at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

Sx3: Go Before You Go

This is the "Doonesbury" side of the White House. You know...the one pictured in all of the Doonesbury cartoons for the past 38 or so years.

And yes, those are Port-a-Potties, PhotoShopped in on the South Lawn. Why? Because DC Security Folks are expecting as many as 5 million at Tuesday's Inauguration Fest. And Inaugural Planners ordered...

7,000 Port-a-Potties. The number~reported by Your Humble Scribe Friday over at Blog Around the World as 5,000~was increased yesterday by 2,000. So, if the crowd swells to the higher end of the estimate, that means 71,428 revelers~give or take 1 or 2~ for each loo. And some of those Don's Johns are only equipped with urinals. Go figure!

You who are fans of The Scholastic Scribe's Silly Sunday Sweepstakes know what to do. Take a gander at this not-quite Superior Snap (but you get the picture, don'tcha?) and Conjure a Creative Caption. Then tippy-type Said Caption in the Comments Section of This Post.

That's it! You, of course, receive nothing tangible for your efforts. Just the knowledge that you've made Mrs. Scribe's day, and caused several of your Bloggy Friends to roll around on the floor laughing hysterically. And, as always, thanks for your support!

Heavy Traffic Ticket

Parts of Downtown DC have been declared a "Prostitution-Free Zone" in honor of the Inauguration of our 44th President.

This means that any two or more people found hanging out in this area and engaging in the World's Oldest Profession will be arrested and fined $300.

The Alert Web site DC List posted this sweet snap yesterday and noted the following about the recent declaration by the Metropolitan Police Department: "The best part? [The sign] has an expiration date, as though at all other times, hookers have free reign over downtown Washington--hey, at least the MPD is honest."

DC has had a prostitution problem in the past, and the Ladies of the Nite can still be seen congregating in select areas of the city, including downtown. Along with Transgender & Gay hookers, too. There...Now Mrs. Scribe has used Several Salacious Words in one post. Do you think that will up her Blog Rating any?

This snap is Superior Enough for Your Humble Scribe's Super Sunday Sweepstakes, ain't it? But no, Dear Readers...we have one that's Even Better. Please come back tomorrow to check it out!

Fx4: Inauguraton Destination

4 days & counting. DC, the Capital of the Free World, is gearing up for a Great Big Ol' Party. And to welcome Barack Obama, the 44th President of the US of A come Tuesday, we're going All Out.

If you're in the traveling mood, meander over to Blog Around the World today. Debbie's hosting Mrs. Scribe as a "Guest Blogger." Watch with amusement as your Intrepid & Sometimes Silly Scribe attempts to scribble away about All Things Inaugural, from the hordes who descend on DC, to the port-a-potties provided for said masses.

Y'all might remember that Mrs. Scribe's October Debut over at BATW had political overtones, as well. Still can't get over the image of Mr. Obama and Mrs. Palin dancing, practically Cheek to Cheek!

But that was yesterday's news. Today's snap features these cool-as-beans Metro Cards. Metro is the "official" name for the subway that zooms all over City & Suburb, carrying us Hither & Yon, on above- & below-ground lines known by their colors: Orange, Blue, Yellow, Green, Red & soon-to-be Purple.

Metro doesn't adorn its farecards with the visage of the President for every Inauguration. Only if the new Prez creates enough "buzz," they say. The only other President to be honored in this way was Bill Clinton, back in 1992.

Sales of these Way Cool collectors' items will go toward hooking up extra cars to trains & running trains more frequently on Inauguration Day to accommodate the gazillion-and-a-half folks they're expecting. Mrs. Scribe purchased these 4 Metro cards as a "keepsake," of sorts. Part of History, & all that janx.

Playing along today with Candid Carrie, & her Fabulous Friday Foto Finish Fiesta!

Editor's Note: Mrs. Scribe's BATW Guest Shot is her second contribution to the 2009 Random Complexity Writing Challenge. 539 words.

This Just In...

Dateline, Cyberland—Somewhere in the Blogosphere—The Scholastic Scribe announced today that she will put her Superior Scribbling to good use, effective immediately if not sooner, by throwing all her considerable skill vis-a-vis regurgitating word vomit into a Writing Challenge.

The object of The Random Complexity Writing Challenge, sponsored by the blog In Search of Giants, is to “keep the words flowing, even if the words are ‘watermelon watermelon watermelon’,” according to the sponsor.

While not really a contest, the Writing Challenge does have some rules, which one may view here. The goal of the WC is to “Write a minimum of 1,000 words of fiction or creative non-fiction per month, from January through December of 2009.”

Contacted while tapping furiously upon her ratty & allegedly virus-infused laptop, Mrs. Scribe said she not only is up for the challenge, but welcomes it.

“Heck, 1,000 words a month? That’s just a drop in the bucket of the creative vat of my well-hydrated life,” The Humble Scribe said. “I think I can throw that much diction out there in 2 weeks! Now, deciding whether it’s quality diction is another skunk in the all together. And don’t even talk to me about tone & sentence structure!”

Your Intrepid Scribe, who worked in the trenches as a Professional Journalist When the World Was Very Young, says she enjoys the relaxed & informal nature of the Blogosphere, especially where she hangs out in Cyberland.

“I’ve got tons & tons of supportive & nurturing friends out there who are basically in the same situation as I am,” Mrs. Scribe explained. “It’s not ‘Publish or Perish.’ We’re not trying to ‘scoop’ the competition. But we do have to scoop up after ourselves sometimes!”

At press time, Mrs. Scribe was readying some more purple prose for a post. “Perfunctory is not my style,” she admitted. “I do tend to go on. But please don’t accuse me of upping my word count. That’s just my Inflated Sense of Self speaking.”

What's the Word Wednesday: PG

Mrs. Scribe is soooooooooooo disappointed! After caging this quiz from Clix at Epic Adventures are Often Uncomfortable, we just assumed that we'd at least rate a PG-13, after Saturday's post about The Christmas Breasts, and all. Clix, at least, earned a PG-13 rating.

The quiz results say The Scholastic Scribe acquired this rating for 2 quasi-bad words over 288 posts. Don't remember using either of them: Hurt (2x) and Stab (2x). Could this possibly be true? Too lazy to go back thru all those words & find out!

And this was the year Mrs. Scribe was going to focus on being a Superior Scribbler. Already sucked into the vortex of the Online Poll, this early in the New Year.

For those of you who care, though, we would have posted about Junk Mail Today, had we not snagged this Super Snapshot of Semi-Reality. FYI, we've received 36 Pieces o' Spam since January 2!

A Faithful Life, Indeed

Mrs. Scribe wishes she'd had more faith in her chosen profession. On Saturday, our local paper came through with a thoughtful, downright beautiful portrait of Yoshio Nakada, the homeless man we blogged about last week. If you'll recall, we went on at great length about the callous nature of not just the press, but people, too.

The lovely feature in The Washington Post reaffirmed that Yoshio made a difference in this world.

The Post captured Yoshio's passion for people. Not only was he a regular at Miriam's Kitchen, the social service agency where Ella Numera Una interned last summer, but he attended services at 2 local congregations: Grace Episcopal Church in Georgetown & The Friends Meeting of Washington...also known as the Quakers. In fact the above snap of Yoshio was provided to The Post by Father John Graham of Grace Episcopal, who held a memorial for the 61-year-old homeless man on Saturday.

Yoshio's friends...and he had dozens in the DC community...held a vigil for him last week at the spot where he was beaten to death on Christmas Eve. Mourners included social workers, local bankers and a group from the Japanese Embassy. They rang a Buddhist bell in a tradition to drown the sounds of Yoshio's pain.

The Embassy has contacted Yoshio's sister, and is working to return him to Japan for burial.

The Post...and the DC community...did the right thing in honoring Yoshio. Miriam's Kitchen does the right thing every day, helping people like Yoshio attain some kind of balance in their fragile lives. If you'd like to contribute to help Miriam's Kitchen make a difference, please click on the snap of Yoshio in Mrs. Scribe's sidebar.

Yoshio Nakada's death is still a mystery...but the fact that he was loved is not.

Well, We All Can't Be Michael Phelps

Mrs. Scribe was putting in her laps at the local rec center yesterday afternoon. Two young-ish (maybe froshies?) high school girls asked to share the lane. Being the Ever Generous & Humble Scribe that she is, Mrs. S. scooted over to make room.

One of the girls had a local high school's team cap on. The other was on the...shall we say "plumpish" side? Keep in mind that Your Intrepid Scribe is neither a) a Spring Chicken nor b) the Sveltest Gal in All the Land (try saying that 3 times fast!). No, we're not criticizing the young woman for her weight. She just didn't look like she wanted to be there, is all.

Let's put the rumors to rest. Yes, Mrs. Scribe is getting on in years, but she still has some gumption in her gallop. The Old Woman was lapping the 2 young women. By quite a bit. Kicking their fannies, in fact.

Every 250 yards, when Mrs. Scribe would switch from strokes to kickboard & back, she'd catch a snippet of convo from the other side of the lane. Seems the girls were getting ready for lifeguarding class. And the heavier one hadn't been in the water for a long, long while.

At one point, a slightly heated debate ensued. High School Team Cap turned to Chubby Friend.

"Come on. You've only got 5 minutes left."

"F**K the five minutes. I'm getting out."

Hope she passes her lifeguard certification class. BTW, Mrs. Scribe burned 1,102.5 calories during her 90-minute swim. *w00t!*

SX3: Dangling Modifier

Welcome to today's edition of Sx3: The Scholastic Scribe's Silly Sunday Sweepstakes. We have a Trifecta for ya today, although these Sweet Snaps have not a thing to do with the Win, Place & Show of horse racing. Although the case could be made that "show" is very much a part of this trio of photographs.

Mrs. Scribe just knew she had to feature this incident in today's Sx3 the moment she heard about it. Seems a skier was riding a lift at Vail last week. Seems the lift malfunctioned in some fashion. Seems the poor guy-who was with his son on the lift-slipped and fell. Seems his ski, or his boot, or some other appendage, caught on the lift, saving him from a dangerous fall. Seems his pants got caught, too, leaving him dangling in "the altogether," nekkid as the proverbial jaybird. For about 15 minutes. With his son in the chair next to him. With his pants around his ankles.

You know what to do, Sports Fans! Take a gander at this Series of Superior Snaps. Conjure a caption for one, for two, for all of the snaps, and quick! Tippy-type your Cunning Caption in the Comments Section of This Here Post. The More the Merrier, as they say in the trenches. Of course, you win absolutely nothing tangible for all your hard work; but if you give Mrs. Scribe a Great Big Ol' Belly Laugh, that's something!

The Christmas Breasts

Once upon a time, The Scribe Family lived near a house that liked to Gussy Up for the holidays. One of their prominent outside displays included a string of lites suspended from a faux-balcony thingy affixed above the front door.

Trouble was, the Lighting Designer for this particular display-probably a Hapless Dad who tried to imbue the place with a little Christmas Spirit, stringing Decorations in the Dark after a Difficult Day-never could get the Balcony Janx quite right. The string of lites always sagged in the middle.

A very pronounced cleft. Like cleavage. We called this particular neighborhood display The Christmas Breasts.

Happy 3 Kings Day, y'all! Better Late Than Never, huh?

Editor's Note: After all those years, The Scribes never did take a picture of The Christmas Breasts. The family moved away. The Breasts are but a memory now. This snap, snagged from Google, just put us in mind of the story.

Fx4: Daddy was a G-Man

Well, here you have Lil Sis & Mrs. Scribe, posing with None Other Than J. Edgar Hoover his own self! Actually, a wax replica of this crafty, criminally inclined, long-time FBI Director, outside the Newseum in DC. If you haven't been down to this Pantheon to the Press, you really should make the time.

Both of the Scribe Sisters have been Professional Scribblers. In fact, Lil Sis still is, so we had a Grand Old Time over the holiday break. And this Silly Snap has a special place in our hearts, as well. Our Daddy worked for J. Edgar's FBI, in both DC & New Jersey, When the World was Very Young. He didn't spend much time as a G-Man, though. Our Mom was a tad creeped out by the sidearm Dad had to carry. And his sweet nature conflicted just a little bit with his assignment.

Playing Along Today with Candid Carrie & her Friday Foto Finish Fiesta!

Dear Cyber-Community,

Some of my observations about this Blogging Janx come from ignorance; others from irritation. And I have several sweet things to say, as well. To avoid sounding like a Maker of Lists, I'm not going to number any of these items. And please, don't take offense, or "offence," as my British Blogging Buddies would say. Nothing here is directly directed at anyone, unless it is.

OK, here goes. Uncharted Waters, as they say. I sense a new "trend" in blogging, much like the dozens of "let's get on the bandwagon now" efforts that permeate education every year. The FEEDJIT Frenzy. What's the purpose? Why is it important to know if I'm coming to you from Glen Burnie, Maryland, some mornings, and Lovettsville, Virginia on others? And in Real Time, no less? What about Fake Time?

I have to say that Bloggy Tracking Gizmos kinda Creep Me Out. Sort of like Big Brother Watching, in reverse. And I'm sad little Winston Smith, who really objects to being monitored. At least you're not watching when I'm wearing raggy underwear! I thought Bloggy Land was all about Freedom. There's nothing Free about FEEDJIT. Looks to me like you're trapped in a cyber-prison of your own making. And who has the time to check the stats, anyway?

Plus, I just have to say...most of the time your FEEDJIT Feed is wrong. I've never even thought much about Detroit, much less visited there, but your Nifty New Electronic Tracking Device seems to think that's where this blog originates, on occasion. What power, progress?

Now let's talk widgets. You know, the leap-frogging, spazzy, zingy! things that prance & dance all over some people's sites. What's up with the widgets? I spent 10 minutes (no joke) trying to visit a blog the other day. I (seriously) had time to a) grab my lunch from the teacher fridge; b) hit the potty; c) help 3 kids with computer problems, & d) eat my sandwich before the page was even half-way loaded. I ended up X-ing it out. And yes, I was blogging on my lunchtime, thankyouverymuch. Please, Dear Friends: A spazzed-out blog does not good reading make! Didn't your High School English Teacher read you the Riot Act about Quality vs. Quantity?

There's a reason Faulkner didn't have any photos, much less widgets, in The Sound and the Fury. As Shakespeare might be wont to say, "Those widgets strut & fret more than an hour upon the bloggy stage. And then are heard no more: It is a tale. Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury. Signifying nothing."


Blog Etiquette? Some have none! Mama raised her Baby to be polite, & By Golly, I'm determined to be that way in the Bloggy World, too! Isn't it just good manners to return comments? If I haven't returned one of your comments, please let me know. I will make amends right away. And to all you Lurkers out there...What Up With Dat, Yo? I'm in favor of a Bloggy Constitution that requires some kind of Blogiquette in Cyberspace. So, Sue Me!

Yup...Mama Didn't Raise No Fool. Going out on a limb here, but I really think writing might be my forté. And, unlike a few Bleeping Bloggers out there, I try to put at least a minimal amount of thought into what I post. Yes, I do sometimes tend toward the inane & occasionally random post, but for the most part, haven't the 282 missives I've deigned to hang up here since my Bloggy Epiphany last spring struck at least one chord with a couple of you? And I love it when people want to circulate my ideas, & even my words, as some of you do. But, please...Give credit where credit is due. It's only polite.

Last things last: A couple of you have wondered why I post every day. It's because I truly believe that I'm growing as a Superior Scribbler thru this cyber-medium. Others have asked why I don't stick to the script, & post about school, education, teachers' tips, ad nauseum, more often. Well, that's why The Scholastic Scribe contains Notes from Beyond the Underbelly of High School Journalism. Just read the Blog Header. I'm a teacher, yes. And also a scribbler. Can't I combine both in One Big Blast in the Bloggy Arena? I should hope so!

And why is Your Humble Scribe writing letters this week? Simply Because I Can. Didn't you hear? They're the latest "trend" in Blogification. I just had to get on the bandwagon.

In Blogs We Trust,
Mrs. Scribe

Dear Senator (supposedly)-Elect Franken,

So, Big Doin's in Minny-SO-tah yesterday, huh? News reports say that you won the US Senate seat by a 225-vote landslide! I'm guessing you'll be coming out our way to claim your seat after your opponent, Norm Coleman, finishes dragging your campaign thru the mud & whatnot. Since there might be a chance that you're considering reprising your 15-some-odd years as a writer & performer on Saturday Night Live when you get here, I thought I'd offer you a little advice before you pack up the tobaggan & snomobile on out Washington Way.

First of all, you don't need to try to be funny anymore. There are 534 other Clowns in the United States Congress; and anyway, trying to crack a joke on Capitol Hill is like spittin' in the wind backwards, as my Uncle Ralph used to say. Plus, your old SNL buddies Dana Carvey, Mike Myers (although not so much anymore) & Jon Lovitz were much, much funnier than you, back in the day. My advice is to stay behind the scenes, as you were during the early SNL years. Try writing some lines for Harry Reed or Nancy Pelosi...some of those Suits up on Capitol Hill could use some better material!

Yes, we like our Senators serious out here. OK, you've received Emmys for your comedy writing, & I respect that, but playing a parody of a politician is so much more different than actually being a politician. Or is it? Wait, I'm confused. Everyone's a politician out here. Or a parody of themselves. OK, scratch that last tip. You might wish to bust out with a Stuart Smalley Skit during an occasional lull in the action...and you'll find there will be a lot of those in the daily dance of legislation.

Above all, shelve the old bits about Al-Anon, AA, Jerry Garcia & The Grateful Dead...although I have to say your skits 20 years ago about "Jerry's Kids" were pretty sweet. This is the 21st Century, after all. John Belushi & Chris Farley died of overdoses, remember? Not funny. And please, wear a button-down shirt, a nice tie & a suit to work. Something tasteful. Off the rack from Filene's Basement would be just fine. The tank tops of your Rock Star Impersonation years are probably well behind you, in any event, correctamundo?

On second thought, though, you might want to break out the Spandex during an occasional Senate debate. Someone once said that the difference between a US Senator & a roomful of old furniture is that at least you have to dust the furniture every so often. I don't know...at the age of almost 59, you might appear downright spry in the company of Robert Byrd, John McCain & Teddy Kennedy. Consider saving the Mick Jagger impression for a particularly juicy fillibuster. Just a thought.

Yes, Washingtonians are self-absorbed, self-important, self-promoting blowhards. No getting around that. But I always had the feeling that that's what Dennis Miller thought of you, too. Something about the way he used to purse his lips...like he was sucking on lemons...during your Weekend Update rants.

And no, I don't think it's odd that Minny-SO-tah has elected a comedic has-been as its Junior Senator. I've been in DC so long that I've seen Gopher (The Love Boat) and Sonny (without Cher) take the oath of office, too. And don't forget...The Great Lake State (that would be Minny-SO-tah) was served so well in the '90s by Governor Jesse "The Body" Ventura. So one could say that they're really "trading up" by sending you out here. At least comics don't get all sweaty and worked up like pro-wrestlers do. Well, unless you count Dave Chappelle, but that's another story completely.

In closing, Mr. Almost-Senator-Elect (supposedly), I want to wish you the best of luck. And to share one of my favorite quotes, from the movie Fargo. "Didya hear the one about the guy who couldn't afford personalized plates, so he went and changed his name to J3L2404?" That's Marge Gunderson for ya. Just a little Upper Midwest Humor to send you on your way. You betcha!

Give 'Em Hell when (and if) you get here,

Mrs. Scribe

Dear Upscale Apartment Residents,

He died near your building. Across the street from the Watergate. On Christmas Eve.

I know. You were worried about such an unsavory site spoiling your holidays. After all, he lived on the streets. And he took a pretty nasty beating to the head.

One of you volunteered to speak with the television media. "I feel so sad," she said, obvious concern etched upon her face. "This is like a very, very good area."

What does one have to do with the other? Oh, yes, I see. The man was homeless. He slept on the streets. His death, perhaps, besmirched your comfy West-End neighborhood?

Authorities said he had no home. But in reality, he did. And he had a name. His name was Yoshio.

The elderly Japanese man didn't speak much English. Some say he wasn't entirely "there," the case with many of our city's indigent population. He mostly communicated through song.

Ella Numera Una volunteered at Miriam's Kitchen this past summer. Back In The Day, we used to call outfits like Miriam's "Non-Profits." Now they're called "Non-Governmental Organizations." NGOs are mostly social service agencies. As an NGO in Our Nation's Capital, Miriam's operates out of a church to try to help people like Yoshio get back on their feet. Or at least try to find some balance in their lives. Miriam's offers a hot breakfast every morning. They provide mental health, medical, housing, clothing, substance abuse & employment services. And that's just a different way to say "home."

Miriam's Kitchen has its head...and its heart...in the right place. Yoshio knew he was loved at Miriam's. He would come every day for breakfast. He often sang to the caseworkers. He would bow, & sing quite softly. American Standards such as "You Are My Sunshine," & "Home on the Range." And always something in Japanese, which the American volunteers tried gamely to learn.

Yoshio also scribbled in books from Miriam's library. Clients don't borrow the donated books; they're allowed to keep them. Since he didn't read English, Yoshio would write Japanese characters in the margins of each book he picked up from the stash. Many assumed this Japanese gentleman faced more than a few "mental health issues." But he was sweet. And he was harmless. And at Miriam's, at least, he knew he had a place in this world.

Christmas Week was a warm one in DC. Temperatures hovered near 60 degrees. Even though the Miriam's staff works hard to find shelter for the hundreds it serves, they readily admit that some of their clients who come to the church basement every morning would much rather sleep out on the streets when the weather is nice. Many of them say they feel safer out in the open. City shelters are kind of scary.

When the story broke, the media didn't really focus on Yoshio. They focused on the neighborhood in which he was found. You Upscale Resdients, who live across the street from the Watergate, one of DC's Finest Addresses. In a building that had housed DC's former mayor. On the fact that Yoshio died on Christmas Eve, presumably spoiling the holiday for all.

I warned Ella Numera Una when she returned from college that a homeless man had been murdered in the West End, near Miriam's. I told her that the victim might be someone she knew. When she came back from volunteering the day after Christmas, she collapsed in the sobs I remember from the sensitive little girl who used to cry when other people hurt.

"Mommy, it was Yoshio," my almost-grown-up child said. "Why would anyone want to hurt Yoshio?"

So, you Yuppie West-Enders, now you know. Yoshio wasn't a bum. He had friends. He was loved.

Yoshio didn't make the Six O'Clock News because of his gentle nature. He made headlines because he was beaten to death across the street from the Watergate. In a wealthy neighborhood. On Christmas Eve.

Here's hoping you all re-discover the love in your hearts some time this New Year,

Mrs. Scribe

Editor's Note: Mrs. Scribe's first contribution to the 2009 Random Complexity Writing Challenge. 668 words.

Dear Mr. Obama,

Let me be one of the 800 & 65 gazillion people to say, “Welcome to Washington!” I know this conventional greeting sounds a tad trite, but I certainly would feel remiss if I failed to greet our incoming President in the traditional Bipartisan and Clichéd fashion.

I understand that you only arrived last nite from Chicago, so may still be feeling a wee bit overwhelmed, jet-lagged & generally out-of-sorts, but I’ve got a few tips to offer you and your cute family as you embark on your careers as Temporary Washingtonians.

First off, you’re staying in first-class digs. The Hay Adams Hotel has no peer, other than, perhaps, Blair House & The White House. And you’re moving into Blair House in about a week, so as George Jefferson would say, “We’re movin’ on up!”

Please forgive that lame attempt at humor. You will soon find that We Washingtonians don’t really have the savoir faire & panache known to those who reside in places like Chicago, home to Second City Chicago (BTW, what an original name for an Improv Troupe!). Yes, we do have an Improv club in DC—known, coincidentally as DC Improv—which is located just behind where you’re staying, on Connecticut Avenue between L & M Streets. But you might find things more amusing up on Capitol Hill, where John McCain is still sharing a double-bill with Sarah Palin..I mean Nancy Pelosi...& all those Other Fun Congress-Persons. And, of course, looks like SNL Alum Al Franken might be coming to Washington as a Senator from Minnesota, of all things. He no doubt will be able to keep Our National Legislature in stitches!

Secondly, let me please offer a little advice to your lovely wife, Michelle. I’m not sure if the Mommy-in-Chief is going to do a lot of “traditional” First Lady things while she’s here, such as host teas & bake cookies (unless, of course, Secretary of State Clinton joins in), but if she’s in the shopping mood, there’s virtually none of that in Downtown DC! Yes, we have a token Macy’s (which used to be Hecht’s—I understand Macy’s has also taken over your Marshall Field’s Department Store, is that correct?), but it’s strictly low-rent. And Georgetown has a few cute boutiques, which Sasha & Malia most certainly will be down with. But you must journey out to my neck of the woods—the Humble DC Suburbs, as it were—to get any primo mall time in.

And, as for those darling daughters of yours, tell them not to sweat their move to Washington. I realize that the lives of Presidential Progeny are never normal, but I also know that DC & its vast open spaces can accommodate your kids’ every need. Capitol Hill alone (the neighborhood, not the Congressional address) has 59 cute-as-bugs parks maintained by the National Parks Service. I can envision your gals suiting up for soccer practice while their Daddy’s lobbying the local legislature, can’t you? And as for dance classes…well, the Washington School of Ballet is right down the street from your daughters’ new Educational Adventure. Perhaps the Obama Girls are interested in starring in next season’s production of The Nutcracker, à la Chelsea Clinton? She played The Favorite Aunt in the ballet’s 1996 staging of that wonderful Christmas season perennial.

Chelsea was only 12, BTW, when she moved into the White House. Sasha & Malia might want to speak with her & get the 411, while their Mom & her Mom are baking cookies! Chelsea also went to Sidwell Friends School—isn’t that just off the hook? Perhaps she can give the girls the down low on all things Sidwell?

And speaking of the Clintons, the Clinton Administration, & All That Janx, I sure do hope that your former Commerce Secretary pick, Bill Richardson, clears his name and all. I have to say that it looks a little fishy, you hiring all these former Clinton folks to be in your new administration. We elected you on the platform of Change, didn't we? To most of us long-time DC-area residents, Clinton doesn’t equal change; he just equals another politician who got his hand caught in the metaphorical cookie jar. Hey, that one deserves a Big Yuck...in more ways than one. Perhaps I should audition for The Improv?

I know, I know. DC politics seems so tame to you Chicagoans. But Just Wait. They’ll try to make you behave & play by their rules. Just don’t listen to them. You were able to ignore the illegal entreaties of Governor What’s-His-Name—the Illinois guy with all that hair? And the funny name?—I’m sure you’ll be able to disregard that nasty DC addiction of Me First, & return the Power to the People.

I’ve lived in the DC area—in both the City & then the Suburbs—since 1982. I’ve seen a lot in all those years, let me tell ya. Mr. President-elect, if you need any more advice at all, please give me a holler. I also have a spare bedroom or 2 if things get too suffocating downtown. I understand hundreds of people are already huddled up in front of your new crib, nite & day, just trying to get a little look-see!

Here’s Hoping for Smooth Sailing Toward Inauguration Day,
Mrs. Scribe

Sx3: You Forgot the Other 2 "Ho's," Didn't Ya?

Yes, this is for real, & yes, 'tis the last Holiday Ho, Ho, Ho we'll be showcasing for The Scholastic Scribe's Silly Sunday Sweepstakes. This Superior Snap is brought to you care of Karla, who presides over at Zander & Me. She snapped this pic while on a Holiday Outing. Here's hoping this household has a couple of other Ho's around the corner, huh?

OK, you Sx3 Fans out there...you know what to do! Take a gander at this Super Superior Snap, & Craft a Creative Caption to go with it. Tippy-type that Cute Caption in the Comments Box of This Post, & There You Have It!

You, of course, will win nothing tangible for all your efforts. Just the knowledge that you've kicked the New Year off with a veritable BANG! And, of course, Your Humble Scribe will hold you in High Esteem, as well.

Oh, and while you're here, don't forget to Nominate Mrs. Scribe for the 2009 Bloggies. Click HERE to find out how!

This Bling's for You...And for Me!

Another Bit o' Bling is out there just for the taking, Bloggy Brothers & Sisters! Well, it's a bit more serious than that, but the Ninth Annual Weblog Awards, known in the Bloggy Biz as The 2009 Bloggies, are now underway.

But in order to get yourself recognized, you have to get nominated. And a Nomination for The Bloggies is just a click away!

The Bestower of this Bloggy Bling calls the contest "the Web's longest-running blog awards." And the entire process originates within the Cyber-Community. "The nominations, finalist selection, and votes are all up to you, the blog reader," says Nikolai Nolan, whose inspiration created The Bloggies in 2001. "So get your votes in and discover which blogs are this year's champions."

None of us can vote for a Favorite Blogger (Like The Scholastic Scribe, perhaps?) unless that Fave gets Nominated, so Here's What You're Gonna Hafta Do:

• Click Here. You'll see a Cyber-Ballot, laid out horizontally, meaning you're gonna have to scroll to the right to get the info you need and nominate the blogs you want.
• Read the instructions before you jump into the nominations process.
• Then start filling out your ballot. You need to nominate at least 3 blogs, in any category you wish. Make sure you nominate your picks in the proper categories; for example, you wouldn't nominate The Scholastic Scribe in the Best Asian Weblog category, because Mrs. Scribe plainly doesn't blog from Asia!
• Make sure each of your picks includes a URL. That would be the http:// address. For example, The Scholastic Scribe's URL is http://scholastic-scribe.blogspot.com/ (are ya pickin' up any hints yet?).
• Scroll all the way to the end of the ballot and type in the two words in the "comment moderation" section. Then, type in your e-mail.
• A "ballot verification" message will be sent to your e-mail. Please click on the link in that e-mail to verify your ballot. Then you're done!
• You may nominate blogs in more than one category, as long as you nominate a total of 3 blogs over all 30 categories.
• You may only nominate once per e-mail account!
• Nominations close at 10 p.m., EST on January 12, so Let's Get Crackin'!
• After the nominations are tallied, voting for the 2009 Bloggies begins on January 22. Winners~get this~will be announced at the South-by-Southwest Interactive Festival in Austin this coming March. Winners get a) The much-deserved recognition; b) A certificate; c) Unspecified prizes, and d) The Weblog of the Year winner receives 2,009 cents~that's $20.09!
• Finalists, BTW, receive a discount to attend the ceremony in Austin, which might be worth it, being as it's Austin, and all...

Your Humble Scribe found out about The Bloggies from some Kind Cyber-Friends, who wish to remain anonymous & happened to nominate The Scholastic Scribe in the following categories:

• Best Writing of a Weblog
• Best-Kept Secret Weblog
• Best New Weblog (only blogs that started in 2008 are eligible for this one!)

Thanks, in advance, for casting your nominating vote for The Scholastic Scribe. Remember, we lost in the balloting for Edublog's Best Individual Blog Contest by Only 9 Votes! Every nomination counts...please do your part to get Your Intrepid Scribe on The 2009 Bloggies Ballot!

Candid Carrie=A Good Luck Fiesta

Playing along with Candid Carrie's Friday Foto Finish Fiesta today! Have y'all eaten your Black-Eyed Peas yet? We Southern Folk eat us a mess o' black-eyed peas & cornbread on the first of every year for good luck. We're supposed to eat collard greens, too, to bring wealth in the New Year, but no one in the Scribe Family, besides the Mrs., of course, can tolerate collards, so we skip that part of the tradition.

Don't quite know where this black-eyed-pea-eatin' got its start, but some say the Good Luck Tradition goes all the way back to Northern Africa, & was brought to the American South by the early slaves. Mrs. Scribe has had at least a tiny taste of black-eyes at the turn of each new year since she was a babe in her Mama's arms, and so have the kids, too. Mr. Fairway has been eating them once a year since he first took up with Your Humble Scribe, when the World Was Very Young.

Our recipe is simple, & has become quite Texas-fied over the years. Dump a bag of raw black-eyes in a pot and cover them with water. Let them soak overnite. Then, add two cans of Rotel...green chiles & diced tomatoes...a handful of cumin and chili powder, 4 cans of water, chopped onions, some garlic and some ham-hocks. Actually, any kind of pork will do, & some years we use chorizo-spicy Mexican sausage-in lieu of the ham-hocks. Then we just cook the hell out of 'em, on low heat...usually most of the day.

Definitely not Vegetarian Food, but this Poor Man's Feast sure is some Good Eatin'!