Uncle Dave's Fine Chili

I really love a great bowl of chili.  Any time we go out for dinner I check to see if the soup of the day is a chili of some sort.  I really enjoy trying different types of chili to see how someone else makes it and then I compare it to my own.  But I have to say that I’ve never found one that I like better than my recipe.  It has enough zip to please those who like it spicy yet it’s not overpowering so you still taste the subtleties.  I make mine with ground turkey and turkey sausage because it reduces the amount of fat dramatically plus you can’t tell the difference between that and the same recipe made with ground beef and pork sausage.  This is also a great recipe for a slow cooker because it can be simmered for a long time.  I hope you give it a try.  I think you’ll like it every bit as much as I do.

Uncle Dave's Fine Chili

1 Large Can Petite Diced Tomatoes
1 Large Can Tomato Sauce
1 Can Red Beans
1 Can Hot Chili Beans
1 Package Extra Lean Ground Turkey
3 Hot Italian Turkey Sausages
2 Large Onions Diced
3/4 Large Green Pepper Diced
3/4 Teaspoon Red Pepper Flakes
3 Tablespoons Chili Powder
1/4 Teaspoon Peppercorn Medley
A Bit of Kosher Salt


Pour tomatoes and tomato sauce in a slow cooker or large cook pot and begin heating.  Stir in the red pepper flakes, chili powder, and the peppercorn medley.


Partially drain the can of red beans, remove half of the beans from the can and crush.  Add whole and crushed red beans to the pot along with the can of hot chili beans.


Sautee onions and green peppers in a bit of olive oil, then add to the pot.


Remove the skin from the turkey sausages and brown along with the ground turkey, adding a bit of Kosher salt.  Add the browned meat to the pot.


After the chili begins to boil, reduce the heat and let simmer for at least three hours stirring occasionally.  I've found that adding a bit of coarse black pepper at this point adds to the flavor.  Let it simmer a bit longer if adding the black pepper and it's ready to be enjoyed.


Bon Appetit !

The "FUF"

"Revenge is a dish best served cold."

— Unknown —

                          Johnson had a quaint name for his car.

                          His "FUF" wasn't made up to par.

                          He swore and he cursed,

                          Claiming Ford was the worst,

                          Till the night that he left from Skip's Bar.

                          He pointed his car straight for home,

                          When the "FUF" belched a sinister drone.

                          The son-of-a-bitch,

                          Headed straight for the ditch.

                          The car had a mind of its own.

                          The Ford smiled as Johnson was leavin'.

                          The legs that once held him were weavin'.

                          Some said it was beer,

                          That made his car veer.

                          But really, the "FUF" just got even.

A Few Minutes about Andy Rooney

“I’m not interested in having my books on an electronic device.  

I want them in books.  I want my words in books.”

— Andy Rooney —

A Few Minutes with Andy Rooney is more time than 60 Minutes viewers should have to put up with and longer than I can stomach anymore.  For 33 years Andy has done nothing but use those few minutes to rail against all things new.  The installment is always the same; only the object of the criticism changes.  It’s always done with the same smug negativism—elbows on the desk in the same rumpled suit, unpressed shirt, and tousled hair that is contrived and supposed to be endearing.  The shtick that may have been clever three decades ago is old, tiresome, and just not funny any longer.  Everybody gets it, Andy.  “If it's new, it's not for you.”

So why not just leave the 92-year-old alone in his persistent quest for the Fountain of Yesterday?  It’s because his last segment was so flagrantly duplicitous.  From the beginning quote, his target was eBooks and eBook readers.  But in the process of denouncing and swearing off these repulsive things, the greed factor slipped in: “One of the first books I wrote a long time ago was called The Fortunes of War.  It was pretty expensive then, $7.50.  Now you can get it free as an E-book.  Not much in that for me.”

What he didn’t tell you is that The Fortunes of War was written in 1962.  I’m no lawyer, but it seems that a book might take on Public Domain status after 49 years.  Treasure Island is a free eBook too.  What he also failed to say is that he is, in fact, profiting from several books he’s written that are in eBook format.  Barnes and Nobel—the same company that is comping his half-century-old book—sells at least two for no less than $14.30 while Amazon has at least six for sale at no less than $9.99.  It strikes me if you're going to whine about something, you damn well better have no ownership.

"Hypocrisy is the lubricant of society."

— David Hull —

Relentless Determination

“No matter who you are, no matter what you do,

life is not promised to you tomorrow.”

--Doug Williams, former quarterback for the Washington Redskins--

It’s hard not to make observations about people while at the supermarket.  The ground is incredibly fertile for such things.  It was no different the other day when I was shopping but somehow my head was putting a different spin on what I saw.  I like to write about things I find humorous.  But there was nothing funny about this.  Person after person was obese to the point of either having to develop an altered stride or resort to a motorized cart to make forward progress.  Whether physically afflicted or self-inflicted this was very disconcerting.

Like a lot of guys I played high school basketball.  But unlike a lot of guys I had a coach that was a star player in college.  He had been out of college for some time before he came to my school but he could still

out-run, out-shoot, and out-hustle the best players on our team.  He was the consummate athlete with relentless determination.

Some thirty years later I was at a 10K footrace and happened to run into my former coach and his wife who were competing in the 60-64 age group.  We had unknowingly both moved to the same city.  They had never stopped exercising, were the picture of health, and routinely won their age groups.  In addition they were both avid cyclists and swimmers.  Relentless determination.

One day while training on her racing bike my coach’s wife had a fall breaking her hip.  During some routine tests at the hospital it was determined that in addition to the broken hip, she was suffering from cancer.  After a very lengthy battle she overcame both the broken hip and the disease due in no small part to her physical fitness.  Not only is she cured, but she can’t wait to get back into competition.  Relentless determination.

At age 73 my former coach still competitively runs, bikes, swims, skis, and does triathlons, often winning his age group.  He’s at it every weekend.  Oh yeah, did I mention he’s had both knees replaced?  Relentless determination.

So, here’s to you coach — and your beautiful wife — for being my daily inspiration to be better fit and to never give up at whatever I do.  How could anyone not be inspired by you?

And how does all this fit in with my trip to the supermarket?  If you don’t need that handicapped plate, park a little farther from the door.  If you don’t need the power chair, don’t use it.  If you use a wheelchair, try to stand.  If you can’t stand today, try again tomorrow.  Then try to walk.  Relentless determination.  Never give up!  Never give up!  Never give up!

“What I’ve learned is…There ain’t no genie.  I am it.

If the wealth and adventure and fame are to come,

I’d better get tough on the only one who can make it happen…Me!”

 --Unknown--

Space Invaders — The Salad Bar Mentality

Don’t you just hate going through a salad bar line?  I mean it wouldn’t matter if the Waldorf Astoria had one or you were going through the one at Joe’s Diner.  There is always some schmuck behind you absolutely convinced that you are going to take that one cherry tomato out of a thousand that he has his eye on.  He’s pumped-up and close enough you can smell the testosterone.  His tray keeps bumping yours.  The guy’s toe keeps catching your heel and the odor of consumed garlic toast certainly isn’t coming from you.  And if he’s really scared of what you might get before he does, you see the darting arm under the sneeze guard like he’s in some sort of salad bar passing lane.  So, you shoot him a look and he says “sorry” but he really isn’t.  He’s looking straight through you to the pickled beets up ahead.

It’s my contention that people are generally hogs.  If you want to know a person’s true personality — what he’s really like — watch him in action at the salad bar.  My guy here is on at least his second trip.  He’s got salad dressing on his shirt as well as on the shoe that keeps kicking me.  There’s enough food on his plate that he may need a wheeled cart and he hasn’t even made it to the pudding station yet.  And right behind him another 400-pounder — presumably the little woman — has just clicked trays telling him to get a move on because she’s starving.

The Delicate Cycle — An Adventure Story

Oh, what a tangled web we weave,

When from the washer we retrieve,

A mass of bra straps we believe,

Will never come undone.

It’s push and pull and in and out,

Your sanity is now in doubt,

From deep inside a mournful shout,

“Why won’t you come undone?!”

The hardest puzzle known to man,

Is this conundrum in your hand,

Of nylon and elastic band,

That just won’t come undone.

There must be half a dozen here,

As segments show then disappear.

Unwinding them it seems quite clear,

It should just come undone.

You stop and then you start again,

It just can’t be that hard—and then—

A knot comes loose and that is when,

It might just come undone.

For help divine you say a prayer,

To part you from this underwear,

Then in the depths of your despair,

“Thank God, it came undone!”

You pump your fist and raise your hand,

Your quarry flutters to the sand,

Sweet victory was right in hand,

But now must be redone.

Insomnia

"Insomnia is God's way of letting you know you've ticked him off."

--- Anonymous ---

I’m not sure why, but for whatever reason I had a really hard time getting to sleep last Monday night.  It’s winter here in northern Michigan.  We’d had a lot of snow and I had worked hard that day.  I was tired.  I got into a bed preheated by an electric blanket about 11:00 P.M.  And there I was.

Blink, blink.  Too hot:  Turn off the blanket.  Blink, blink.  Midnight:  Rotate right and kick off one more cover.  Blink, blink.  Twelve-thirty:  Rotate left and put that cover back on — too cold.  Blink, blink.

At 1:30 A.M. I got up and headed to the bathroom and noticed my neighbor had left his floodlight on.  Now this light doesn’t really shine directly into my bedroom, but when you’re tired and can’t sleep, any light — real or imagined — is like a searchlight from a used car lot.  You convince yourself that light is shining directly into your eyes. 

Back to bed.  Blink, blink.  Damn light !

Three A.M.:  That same light is now coming through a different window.  How does that work?

Blink, blink !

Somewhere around 3:30 A.M. I must have dozed off.  And at 4:00 A.M.:  Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep !  Smoke alarm?  Carbon monoxide detector?  Alarm clock?  What?  Oh, for God’s sake, it’s the snowplows in the restaurant parking lot.

Blink, blink, blink !!

Four-forty A.M.:  Close your eyes.  The snowplows are gone.

Four-fifty A.M.:  Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep !  The snowplows are now plowing snow from the street in front of my house.

Blink, blink, blink, blink !!!

Six A.M.:  Wide awake.  Oh, forget it!  Just get up and get the newspaper.

So I did that.  Right after I dug it out of the driveway the snowplows filled in for me.