My CNET handler called today. He is the man who yanks at the dog lead permanently attached around my throat and croaks: "Write, puppy, write."
My handler said he had been present at last week's Crunchie awards, something to do with giving chocolate bars to fine new Internet companies. And he told me that he heard Google's Marissa Mayer whisper that in these times of infinite woe, more people were googling "recipes" than "restaurants."
The first thought that came into my mind was just one word: raccoon. You see, these brazen, beady-eyed burglars waft around my neighborhood fueled by the desire to eat everything I own. Yes, even my house. And whenever I see them, I wonder what they would taste like barbecued with some roast potatoes and a little broccoli.
Now I discover that raccoon is rapidly becoming the other dark meat. The raccoon apparently had pride of place in the first edition of the Joy Of Cooking in 1931. And here's the good news: you can buy one for between $3 and $7.
With that tiny outlay, one that simultaneously eliminates one of the lower-level civil servants of the animal world, you can feed five people.
Knock my trash cans over one more time and you might find yourself baked with apples.
(Credit: CC Michael Sheltgen)Please enjoy these words, printed in the Kansas City Star, from Jeff Beringer, a furbearer resource biologist with the Missouri Department of Conservation: "Raccoon meat is some of the healthiest meat you can eat. During grad school, my roommate and I ate 32 'coons one winter. It was all free, and it was really good. If you think about being green and eating organically, raccoon meat is the ultimate organic food."
Yes, those varminty scavengers who try to knock over my trash cans have no steroids, no antibiotics, no growth hormones--just my evil thoughts drifting around their systems.
If you are, by any chance, offered a raccoon by a man in a highway rest area, here's the simple test: Trappers chop only three of the raccoon's four paws off. This is simply to prove that the carcass is not that of a cat or a dog.
Thankfully, when you Google "raccoon recipes," the first one that comes up is from Cooks.com. It is, indeed, barbecued raccoon. And it sounds, I know you'll agree, very tasty.
I feel confident that the minute I post this elegy to one of man's favorite little critters, demand for raccoon cuisine creativity will shoot up. Perhaps there will soon be an edition of Top Chef devoted to the furry one. (Can there possibly be such a thing as rack of raccoon?)
I sincerely hope that Marissa and the other steaming brains at Google are fully prepared for a massive change in America's eating habits.
You know it's going to be really bad when the man who first revealed that the world is flat, Thomas Friedman of The New York Times, says it's going to be really bad.
Here's how bad it is: Russians are drinking less vodka.
So, as you gird your loans and tighten your money belts, perhaps it's time to live a simpler life. One that revolves far less around luxurious and complex technologies.
Here are five tech products that you will surely be able to live without in this recession/depression/secession from Alaska.
1. Twitter. This interesting little service may or may not be worth $500 million. But Twitter was clearly a child of fat times, times when you would tweet that you were "at Bed, watching a tech billionaire nuzzling the ear of a cute journalist." Or "ordering my Tesla."
What possible use is it when your tweets will now read "at Starbucks, picking my nails." Or "trying to borrow $20 from a bum." Who wants to hear about that? Surely, it would be best if Twitter were immediately shut down. This would give the twitterati some time to perfect their technology. And Twitter's relaunch could then coincide with a government announcement that the recession/depression/secession from Alaska is finally over.
2. Cell phones. The best way to stand up to the reality that no one will be calling you to offer you a job, or even to ask how you are doing, is to prevent even the possibility. Perhaps not all readers will remember what life is like without a cell phone. You might find it curiously liberating.
No texts or calls while you're lunching or shopping, for example. So what if you'll be participating in these activities at McDonald's and Ross Dress For Less? You will be able to enjoy the experience to the full. If someone really wants to contact you, they will still have e-mail. Or the Postal Service--though the latter is useful only if you still have somewhere to live.
3. PowerPoint. The last meeting that occurred without PowerPoint was in 1973. Or thereabouts. In Moldova. Countless days and lives have been spent staring at screens with pointed bullets and cartoons stolen from newspapers to illustrate those pointed bullets.
This is the time to learn to present yourself in a different way. Perhaps by merely saying what you really want to say in one 15-minute meeting. In Starbucks or McDonald's. With no 150-page deck to leave behind to show how hard you haven't worked. Of course, the 15-minute meeting is not likely to be with someone who can offer you money.
4. Second Life. This virtual world was meant to help you relax and be your real self, far away from your ugly, stressful world. But these are tough economic times. So Second Life, the place where some people try to turn themselves into, um, hostesses and gigolos, will be no competition for a real world in which many may, indeed, be forced to turn themselves into hostesses and gigolos.
5. eHarmony. This is the dating site that asks you to answer 258 questions in order to qualify for a chance to meet someone else who has the patience to answer 258 questions. Someone who may, in real life, look like the progeny of a unicorn and a mailbox.
In a recession/depression/secession from Alaska, you have hours, days, weeks and months to get to know yourself better in your own time. Then you can use that knowledge to meet the partner of your dreams. In Starbucks, McDonald's, or Ross Dress For Less. Where there will be far more people crowding together for company than on eHarmony.
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