Today I went where no Emily has gone before – I interviewed a digital human.
As far as I have been able to determine, there are no digital humans in Salem, Oregon — this one resides in the Midwest.
But I will be back blogging about Salem, and desperately, very soon.
No food appeals more to my sense of aesthetics than sushi — and lately, I’ve been jonesing for the high contrast complementary palatte of Fuji Ricetime’s Hawaiian Poke salad.
It consists of thumb’s width chunks of ahi tuna cut in cubes and tossed in sesame oil, jazzed up a bit with a sprinkle of green onions, strewn with sesame seeds and served on a bed of cucumber.
Simple, sexy, fresh. Makes canned albacore look pathetic in comparision, doesn’t it?
It helps that the Hawaiian poke salad isn’t on the actual menu but listed on a printout hanging next to my favorite sushi chef in Salem, this shy little sushi artist, who doesn’t want her name listed and didn’t really want her picture taken (she obliged eventually).
I am posting this image from the middle of Iowa and it’s rather cold in here.
Reason #293 to live in Salem:
Spring announces itself early.
“And then my heart with pleasure fills, and dances with the daffocils…” Especially the ones right outside my kitchen window.
As seen exiting from the Salem YMCA parking lot, behind the Statesman-Journal’s offices: a bad sign.
In addition to making me feel a little nostalgic (I can only move backwards), and causing me concern over my metaphorical path (which apparently cannot move forwards), this sign says you can’t enter this parking lot in this direction.
And yet, all of the parking spots are set up for you to enter from this street…
Sartre, I have found your parking lot!
My neighbor is a modern-day Da Vinci. He’s an idea man whose impulse to test the limits of the physical world never ends on paper.
Recently he took a look at a child’s toy from India — the kind of colapsable double helix — and decided to make one in his front yard to fit the community space he is creating for all of us to use.
Here it is nearing completion. When he is finished, he’ll send crawling wisteria up the sides and have a homemade gazebo.
I’d chalk it up to the recession, but some minds choose to create no matter what the economic impulse is. I have a hunch that he’d be making this neighborhood meeting space no matter who is losing money on Wall Street.
For a chat directly with the source about Salem’s parking issues, join Salem Administrative Services Director Tony Mounts today at 12 p.m.
That is, if you’re not moving your car…
This has to be one of the lamest Cafe Press T-shirts I have ever seen.
It says: “Happiness is being in Northeast Salem, OR.
Love the message, hate the medium.
Does anyone know someone in town who would be intersted in working with me to develop a better Salem t-shirt than the lame-o Salem T’s that can be found on CafePress.com?
I have received some strange press releases since starting this blog. My favorite came from a major Italian producer of truffle oil who suggested these were times that allowed a good splurge.
Still waiting on the release from my latest obsession, Doctor Kracker’s über cracker, the Seedlaender variety. It’s about half seeds, half cracker, and it rocks my face off.
Literally.
You munch it and you can feel the crunch in your chest cavity.
Sadly the über crackers cost about $5.00 at Life Source for six large flatbread crackers, which make them a treat reserved for special times.
That’s right — I said it — this is the champagne of crackers.
And while I promise not to make this blog an outlet for heralding just any old product, I can’t help but proselytize for ones that have made moving to Salem a fantastic foodie adventure.
CCCRRRRRRUUUNNNCCCCHHHHHH!
My mom has this thing where she likes to drive around neighborhoods where we can’t afford to live. So on her first visit to Salem recently we meandered through a gorgeous neighborhood in South Salem where everybody trims their azalea bushes and everyone paints their trim.
And then we stumbled on this gorgeous beast.
He was the project of a local fourth grade classroom. The teacher, who upon retirement, discovered that this giraffe (named Manuel by the kids) could not fit in her house. So simply gave Manuel a home on the Serengheti of her porch.
That’s the classiest yard ornament I’ve ever seen.
Don’t be confused by the “HIP Salem” link you might find at the Oregon Council for the Humanities website. It’s not what we might hope it to be…
But in good news for people who are sick of bad news, the Council just sent out its latest publication, and if you sign up online, you can get it for FREE.
Send you request to:
subscription@oregonhum.org
The latest issue is structured around the theme of Nostalgia.
I’ve been living my life nostalgically for years, as in, I seem to age in reverse and am currently about 45 going on 22.
But I can’t think of a better topic to take up in these troubled times than the longing for times past.
I’m a little nostalgic myself for a time when “these troubled times” wasn’t so overused that the mere mention of them made my eyes roll.
Where’s Thomas Paine when you need him.
