Dale Cox, Jr. 1921 - 2013

Here's Dale on June 2, 2013, promoting his two books "Tango Trajectory" and "Top Secret Flight" at the El Segundo Library Book Fair.

I'd like to write about the Dale we all knew at the South Bay Writers Workshop, less formally known as "Thurs. Writers."  First of all, he was always on time.  He was orderly and carried a cardboard box marked "Writers" in which he carried file folders and a thermos of hot coffee, probably a holdover from his Navy days.

He was meticulous in his writing; working and re-working a piece until it suited him and he knew how well-pleased we were via our critiques. 

He had a great sense of humor and his "Sea Stories" were packed with it.  Not a lot of people would find naval duty in the Pacific during WW2 a barrel of laughs, but he found the telling little human bits and shared them with us to our delight.

One afternoon, before we got started, some of the members were playing the dozens about how poor they were as children.  Dale won hands down when he said, "We were so poor, we went barefoot all year around.  In winter, we had to wrap our feet in barbed wire for traction" which brought down the house. 

He could also do inadvertantly funny.  Here's an example that still makes me smile every time I think of it.  I had written a script about a pair of gay guys; one much older than the other and the ensuing problems they encountered.  After I read a scene of particularly inventive hostility between them, Dale said clearly puzzled, "Why can't they just find a pair of nice gals and settle down?"

I probably wouldn't be able to consider him a romantic.  He told us the story of how he proposed to his wife of 67 years.  It was wartime; all the men around him were getting married so he thought he would as well.  Going to the base pay phone, he called Patricia and said, "Would you like to marry me?  Make up your mind fast; this is my last quarter."

Incidentally,  Patricia should be given equal credit in the Bravery Department.  Husband a wartime ship commander and then post-war, a test pilot.  She was at home with four little boys.  Not a particularly serene and worry-free life and she is to be highly commended for coming out of all that with sangfroid  and dignity intact.

Godspeed, Dale.  Richie and I send our condolences to Patricia and the family. 

Read more about Dale at:  amazon.com or lulu.com/spotlight/dalecox or click on his name at southbaywritersworkshop.com

Huh! My Mother Already Knew This Stuff!

And she was a first generation American.  Her parents had been immigrants (along with the rest of the village) from land that was once in Russia, now Czechloslavakia.  The point I'm making here is that She Was Not French.  And I seriously doubt much of what follows was learned in a village somewhere in Russia.   Mother had innate style, bred into her bones.

"Lessons From Madame Chic - 20 Stylish Secrets I Learned While Living in Paris" by Jennifer L. Scott   Simon & Schuster   283 pages   $23

Scott first visited Paris as an exchange student for six months.  She went from California casual (read: flip flops; pajamas to breakfast) to Parisian chic - or very near it - during those months.

Happily she was sent to a formidably French family (husband, wife, 23 year old son) who were always formally dressed outside of their bedrooms.  Dinner was always at least three separate courses, but most usually five.  The wife grocery shopped every day to get the freshest possible.  And all of the walking, from shop to shop, kept her sleek.

But my mother already knew a lot if not all of the things that Scott advises.  Some examples...

Scott:  Snacking Is So Not Chic
Orpha:  "Don't fill up before dinner - put those away."

Scott:  Deprive Yourself Not (at the table)
Orpha:  "If you always take small portions, you can eat whatever you like."

Scott:  Liberate Yourself With the 10-Item Wardrobe.  You can afford to pay a little more if you're going to wear it on an almost every other day basis.
Orpha:  "Pay more - it will last longer.  Cheap is shoddy; it'll wear out in no time and then you'll have to buy another one.  Spend a little now and save later."

Scott:  Find Your True Style
Orpha (after studying my 12-year-self):  "Well, you'll never be pretty, but you'll always be striking - and in the long run that counts far more than 'pretty'."

Scott:  The No-Makeup Look, a chapter devoted to making it look au natural  when in fact you have exfoliated, creamed, put on foundation,  blusher, eye liner, mascara and lipstick. 

Orpha (regarding my 1956 "Cleopatra" eyes a la Elizabeth Taylor) "Less is more, dear."

Take Yesterday - Please!

I should have known it wasn't going to be all that great a day when I walked into the ladies locker room at the gym and the first thing I saw was a really fat lady, head in her locker, bent over trying to pull a pair of thong pants up her extremely big butt.  The second thing I saw (and felt) was the wall as I shut my eyes tight and walked right into it.

Ignoring this horrendous sight as any kind of warning, I went on with my day.  At 1:45 p.m. I pulled out of our garage to go see a woman that I see every Wednesday afternoon at 2 p.m.

Two blocks from the house, Truck began heaving irregularly and then the engine died.  A bright red light flashed "Battery."  I managed to start her again and got all the way down the block to the intersection of Grant and Aviation, just next to the 7-11 store.  And there she gave one last gasp and that was it.

I immediately picked up the cell phone and called Richie.  I knew he was there.  When he didn't pick up after three calls, I knew exactly what was going on.  He was on the computer with his earphones happily bopping away to Elton John and unable to hear a phone that was 18 in. away from his head! 

Beyond furious, I then called AAA and managed to have a civilized conversation with the nice lady during which drivers behind me were tooting their horns because I was blocking the right turn lane.  This did nothing at all to calm me down and several times I bellowed out my window: MY CAR IS DEAD; GO AROUND ME with sufficient volume to be heard in Torrance. 

I knew they proably thought I'd pulled over to take a phone call and was happly chatting away while they waited - and honked. 

I pulled the hood release and popped it, and put it up wondering how long my emergency flashers could last with a dead battery...

The AAA guy showed up, hooked up Truck and instructed me to get in his truck cab.  Towtrucks are tall!  I had to get on the step and then get in the seat.  He very graciously hauled me up the hill and let me out to walk the two blocks home to get Richie and his car.

Halfway up the street, here came Richie.   We drove to our mechanic.  I was somewhat calmer, but not much.  Turns out he'd been out in the backyard, but:   the bedroom window was open and the downstairs phone has a noticeable ring.  He's going back to the audiologist (?) hearing aids guy very soon.  This afternoon if I could get him in. 

Joe Kerby (mechanic) called before we left for the gym and Truck needs a new carburator.  $670. 

And it's now Thursday and I didn't see any thong-wrestling ladies in the locker room this morning.  Maybe today will be a better day... 

One of the Many Reasons America Is A Great Country

Our former nextdoor neighbors rapidly became good friends.  They moved when their second child was born to a bigger house only about 1/2 mile away.  The friendship has continued.

They met another friend of ours at a party at our house a month or so ago.

The old neighbors' new street is hosting a 4th of July block party and we and our friend have been invited to attend by our former neighbors.  We accepted with gusto as none of us have ever been to a block party.

"What's so great about all of this?" you ask, yawning convulsively.

Our former neighbors John (from Great Britain) and Angie (from New Zealand) and our friend (friend Caracas, Venezuala) are all excited to be celebrating the 4th of July!  Here in the good old USA! 

Make Your Own Krupnikas

Bob and Pat were in town recently, mainly to attend the South Bay Writers Workshop's annual Summer Solstice potluck picnic.  Bob managed to also squeeze in afternoon sailing, a huge passion in his life.  The guy whose boat he was on is originally from Lithuania or Poland and he makes bottles of "Krupnikas" for himself and friends.  Bob said they already had 5 bottles of it and gave us the one he'd been given. 

When I Googled this strange word, I really didn't expect anything to come up.  Imagine my surprise -- it is a honey-based liquer known in Eastern Europe as a great cold medicine!  One is free to drink it, however, with or without a cold.   It does not taste like any cold medicine I've ever had. 

This grain alcohol drink is credited to an order of 16th century Benedictine monks.  Based on the fact that the Benedictines are credited with champagne, Benedictine and now krupnikas, I think I want to join up. 

I printed out the first recipe I came across and here it is.  Bootleggers, to your stills!

Krupnikas - makes 1 1/2 quarts

10 cardamon seeds, cracked
1/2 nutmeg seed
2 teas. caraway seed
10 whole cloves
10 whole alspice berries
4 3-in. cinnamon sticks
2 teas. whole peppercorns
1 pinch crushed saffron threads (optional)
2 1-in. pieces fresh ginger root
2 1-in. pieces fresh tumeric (yellow ginger)
3 large strips of orange zest
3 large strips of lemon zest
4 cups water
1 T vanilla extract
2 lbs. honey
1 qt. 190 proof grain alcohol 

Crack the cardamom and nutmeg and toss them into a saucepan with all the rest of the spices.  Pour in the water and bring to a boil.  Cover and simmer until the liquid is reduced by half.  Strain out the spices and set this liquid aside.

Pour the honey into a large pot and bring it to a boil over medium heat..  Then stir in the spice liquid and remove from the heat.  "Place far from the stove to avoid any flare-ups from the grain alcohol."  (I'd take this step to the bathroom and do it in the tub - stronger walls...)

Stir in the grain alcohol, then put the whole thing back on a LOW burner and cover it.  Heat thoroughly,, BUT DO NOT LET IT SIMMER OR BOIL.  Turn off the heat and leave it to its own devices for the rest of the day and through the night. 

Next day, decant it into sterile bottles, cap them and allow it to settle for two weeks.

The longer you let it sit, the clearer it will become. 

The Wisdom of Eating Early

Joke all you want to about all Early Bird Specials and old people, snickering all the while.

But:  a rose under any other name is still a rose and Happy Hour is when you can score big on drinks and food.  Until 7 p.m., that is.

Case in point:  Six of us (all adults) recently had drinks and dinner at Hudson House.  The tab looked like this:
Happy (hour) Ale 2 x $3 = $6   Usually $5 or $6  $10-$12    Saved $6
Happy Margarita 4 x $4 = $16  They're usually $7 to $10  or $40    Saved $24
Happy edammame $3 (usually $5)  Saved $2
Happy olives $3 (usually $5)  Saved $2
Happy mixed fries (sweet potato and regular potato) $2  Either one is usually $5  Saved $3

Saved $37.  Which was $7 more than I tipped on a $143 tab. 

This'n That

THE Best Bargain (So Far)
One of my should-be-guilty-but-isn't pleasures is the day-old bakery shelf at Ralph's (supermarket) on Pacific Coast Highway and Pier, Hermosa Beach.

It isn't that I am especially fond of pastries; I'm not.  But:  what I am passionate about is a bargain!  When I can get a generous slice of cake that some fool paid $1.99 for at a price of 69 cents, odds are I'm gonna buy it!  

Think about it - 69 cents is what it cost the bakery to make it; $1.30 is profit!  I thought that was a good deal until Richie bought me this:

 
Richie Is Getting Slicker Than Calf Slobber on a Doorknob
Night before last, we were eating dinner and watching the Food Channel's program, "Mexico - One Plate At A Time" -- do you sense a theme, perhaps?

The chef made stuffed, bacon-wrapped shrimp and we agreed that it looked good.  Richie said, confidentally, "I'm going to make that tomorrow night."

All he needed were four ingredients - the shrimp (get big ones,) crushed garlic, Swiss cheese and bacon.

Peel and butterfly the shrimp.  Leave the tails on for handles.  "Butter" the shrimp insides with the crushed garlic, put in strips of Swiss cheese and wrap each shrimp with a half-strip of raw bacon.  Close them  shut with skewers you've soaked in water so they won't catch fire while baking at 400.

We started the bacon on a pizza sheet (and let it go a tad too long) but in the end it all worked out.  Crushed garlic from a jar is "sweet" as is the Swiss cheese and the bacon's salt brings it all together.