September 15, 2008

Ranking: Potato Chips

Well, now...that's enough of the heavy stuff for a bit, eh? Let's take a break. Let's dodge the political spit wads, hate mail, and debates about lipstick...and let's get down and dirty and talk about something of truly monumental importance: junk food.
Like every youngster raised in the 80s/90s, I had a serious craving for snacks. I sucked down my fair share of Little Debbie snack cakes, Dr. Peppers, and Kit Kats...but a special place in my heart was always reserved for unnaturally-colored magnificence of the potato chip aisle. With the help of my family, I consumed my share of chips over the years, and by college considered myself something of a connoisseur. It was about that time, in a conversation with my two best friends, that I came to the realization that, in my universe, 5 chips stood above the rest. I named them "The Pentavaret" and spent the rest of my College/Grad School/Bachelor days advocating for these snacks...by buying and consuming as many of them as I could.
But then, thanks be to God, came marriage. And the woman I love soon realized that there was a pretty good chance that my blood was the consistency of Silly Putty. And so, these 5 wonderful brothers-in-arms who once comprised a personal food group have been reduced to yearly (if that) indulgences. I don't miss them as much as you might think. They are like those friends from way back that you know might have killed you...but you still find yourself drawn to them (and to the half-man-half-goat you used to be.) But I still miss them. So here...for nostalgia's sake...is the "Pentavaret" in all of its glory.

5. Bacon and Cheddar Tato Skins
The diabolical Keebler elves rolled out their latest weapon to fatten, and thus conquer America in 1987. It was their most effective weapon against me, and was timed perfectly for the height of my junk-food consuming abilities. Between it and the Fudge Stripe cookie...our house lined the pockets of many a rich elf. This chip-overlord was the "Tato Skin." The Tato Skin still comes in three flavors, but it is the powdered-cheesy goodness teamed with the nothing-less-than-devine power of bacon that blows away the Sour Cream and Chive and (don't even waste my time here) Plain versions of the chip. The novelty of the chip was the one-side-darker technology that the bag told you was the "skin." (Yes...and by "skin," they mean a monosodiuglutenate #4 instead of monosodiuglutinate #3.) The reason this chip is ranked so low on the totem pole is because it is now nearly impossible to find. A trip to http://www.tatoskins.com/ will direct you to the "Inventure Group," a company still trying to keep up the brand by marketing them alongside such geographically-confused industry juggernaunts as "Bob's Texas Style Sweet Maui Onion Potato Chips." I haven't seen them in years...and if I did, I imagine it would be like a re-creation of that scene in "The Natural" when Roy Hobbs finally talks to Glenn Close after all those years and she says: "I used to look for you in crowds. One day...I guess I just stopped looking." You are Roy Hobbs, Tato Skins. I miss you...and you might have been the best that ever was. Oh...yeah...one other thing...I didn't have your baby.

4. Chili Cheese Fritos
Fritos are good, Ranch Fritos are better, but this unique incarnation of Frito takes the cake. Packaged in a deceptively small, but densely packed bag...the only "problem" with Chili Cheese Fritos in how easy it is to talk yourself into taking down an entire bag. And that, friends, is like a SubPrime Mortgage or buying a St. Bernard puppy: File it under "It sure seemed like a good idea at the time." The closest thing I can compare it to would be swallowing two momma badgers whole after separating them from their young. Not pretty. On the plus side, they work extremely well in the most classic of Frito applications including application on top of chili, in the middle of burritos, and (my personal favorite) smashed and melted into a grilled cheese sandwhich. Yes...I'm still alive. Yes...I do realize that it's a miracle.

3. Cheddar and Sour Cream Ruffles
Technically called "Cheddar 'N Sour Cream Ruffles," but every time I use the big capital "N," the little English Teacher inside me dies a little. I'm usually not a big fan of "regular" potato chips, especially in their more traditional flavors. The over-sweet potato chip BBQ flavor makes me a bit queasy and the generic "Sour Cream and Onion" chips just take like onion salt to me. But these beauties who, again, conveniently came on the scene during my prepubescent years, brought me back to the basics. I can remember at one point saying something to the effect of: "I would eat an asbestos tile if it were covered in that stuff." Unfortunately, the good folks at Ruffles gave me that chance a few years back by producing the "Baked" version of this chip. 21st Century Semi-Healthy/Getting Older/Broccoli-Eating Scott tried them a few years back and nearly broke into tears because the age-old adage was proven right once again: put all the peanut butter you want on it, folks...it's still celery.

2. Cool Ranch Doritos
I don't remember exactly when it was in the 80's, but I do remember the sheer novelty of a new flavor of Doritos. We had only previously known the joy of regular old Doritos and their processed cheesy goodness...but suddenly, out of nowhere, the FritoLay company came up with a whole new mega-salt/chemical concoction to put on their chips known as "Cool Ranch." I would never eat regular (now "Nacho Cheese"--oh, so that's what that was...) Doritos ever again. Well...OK...so that's not true, but I definitely preferred "Cool Ranch." In true American style, Doritos has now expanded to include 8,543,209 flavors including--not joking--"Sweet Chili Heat" and an oh-so-square "Ranch" variety that gets sand kicked in its face at the beach...but the 2nd incarnation remains the king in my books. They even tried a marketing scheme of calling it "Cooler Ranch" (along with "Nacho Cheesier") a while back. Cooler...yeah, right. Short of throwing a few dashes of Eye of Fonzie in there, how is that possible? Come on. Oh...and in another interesting experiment, 21st Century Healthy/Boring/Trying to Living Longer Scott also tried the baked variety of these and...yeah. The baked "corn chips" sucked every last drop of saliva out of my mouth like some mutant sponge. Thanks, FritoLay, but I'd rather die of the fat.

Editorial note: For the entire previous paragraph, I kept wanting to put "Doritoes," but that...I think...is the word for the lower digits of someone named Dorothy. And I don't care what you put on those, I ain't eatin' them.

1. Crunchy Cheddar Cheese Cheetos
I can not emphasize the importance of the "Crunchy" part enough. Keep the puffs, you patsies...they're packing peanuts. Trust me, they are. And don't give me the twists, either...take a side on the Crunchy/Puffy debate, flip-floppers. And the baked? Oh...come on, people. Are we learning nothing here? Baking chips is like throwing holy water on a vampire, OK? And as for the "Flaming Hot" variety...come on...they're not Hotos, people...they're Cheetos. This, friends, is the Elvis of snacks...bow to the king. From the Chernobyl-yellow color to the surprising density of them...they reign supreme. I have recently discovered the pure joy of putting Cheetos into a sandwich. Cramming cheetos into a regular turkey sandwich on white is roughly the same as introducing a monkey to Session meeting. Not only is it unexpected, unorthodox, and borderline insane...but you end up wondering how you ever did without it. On top of that, they include my favorite chip side-effect,"Cheeto-hands," the wonderful cheesy residue left on your fingers that is impossible to wash off. For those who are not picky about hygiene, this allows for continued "snacking" for the rest of the day. And so, for these reasons and many more, the Cheeto rules the Pentavaret.

And now...with that...I'm hungry. I will now be going to the store where I will wander the aisle gently calling out for Tato Skins. Please, whatever you do, don't tell Julie.

September 11, 2008

"Other Duties"

I just spent 45 minutes cleaning our basement. Many things led to this. Our custodian quit about three weeks ago without giving any notice, the repeated pleas to the congregation for help in cleaning went mostly unheeded (outside of the help of those who already are doing way too much), and tonight is our monthly potluck/fellowship event and we are inviting in a singing group from the local high school and their parents.

And so, for reasons I can't completely explain, I found myself scrubbing toilets this morning...leaving my unfinished sermon to be completed piecemeal over the weekend.

Sigh.

I know I'm not supposed to do it. I know all that small church theory that tells me that I should let the church look like garbage tonight and let the church feel the shame of it, and then (in theory) the church will take action. I know all of that and have even tried it on occasion...I recited it to myself again as I sat in the basement and cleaned away.

The "problem" is that I love this church. I want the Sunday School to thrive...I want the place to be clean. I want it to be something more than just a run0down building on the corner. I want people to walk into our basement and not think to themselves, "Boy, they're really letting themselves go." And Julie bends over backwards to teach Sunday School. And I try something new to try and set off that spark...that fire...that gets people excited about being participants (I've found myself back from leaders) in what God is trying to do here. More than anything...I want to take all the "I"s out of the previous paragraph and see God working in and through the people here to something new and profound and life-changing.

I don't clean because I'm a control freak. I clean, mostly, so that those ten-or-so poor souls who do everything don't have to do more. I do it because I feel it needs to be done...all the while hoping for a day when it will get done because somebody else is committed to doing it. But I end up feeling bad about it, because I am that most terrifying of modern terms...an enabler.

These are the days when work at a larger church calls like a siren...misleading and deadly. Days when the "compliments" like, "We'd be nothing without you..." feel even more like defeat. Days when I look back at my application and see the statement: "What I love about church ministry is the variety." This is variety, I'll give it that. I'm a bookkeeper, a copy writer, a motivational speaker, a babysitter, an entertainer, a handyman, a landlord, a referee, a contractor, a troubleshooter, a sales representative, and a janitor....

But, on certain days, really feel nothing like a pastor.

September 4, 2008

How The Political Conventions Are Killing My Will To Vote

I want to be informed. I want to be a good American, a good voter. I've followed the primaries, done some reading on the subject. I've formed some ideas. I've made a go of it...I really have.

But now it's convention season once again and, at the end of the day, I hate to say it...they just won't let me do it. They just won't let me feel passionate or confident...they won't let me feel good about voting for anybody. In the end, it feels like no matter what choice I make, I'm still casting a vote for a Politician.

Not that I can entirely blame the conventions...I'll take some of the blame. I've tried to avoid them, I really have...but while we were on vacation, the conventions and "analysis" found their way onto our television in the hotel rooms. I found my way to them again last night. Maybe it's curiosity, maybe it's hope, maybe it's sadomasochism. But I just keep running into the same things.

One of the most insightful things I have heard about recent American politics was the statement, "Americans don't know who they support any more...but they sure know who they hate." This has been what has been on display for every convention I can remember. Last year was an excellent example. The speeches I saw/read/saw "highlights" from at both conventions were stunningly similar. The DNC worked to paint George Bush as a warmongering, lying, environment-killing, isolationist idiot and the RNC worked equally hard to show John Kerry as an unpatriotic, God-hating, baby-killing flip flopper who wanted to raise your taxes. The DNC didn't really talk all much that about Kerry...the RNC didn't really talk all that much about Bush. They didn't talk about their candidates or their platforms or what they hoped to achieve outside of some general, benign statements like, "I think we should stop using so much oil," and "I think education is important." (Might as well have thrown in "I'm pro-puppies" and "I'm totally committed to doing all I can to stop bad things from happening.") They talked about how terrible life would be if you were stupid enough to elect the "Other Guy." They bandied hate, fear, and bloodlust around their arenas like tennis balls all week and then went home to let it fester. It was gruesome. And it was again this year.

What makes it harder is that I had hoped. I loved "Early Obama." Obama in Iowa got me excited. He talked about being unconventional. He talked about the hurts and crippling inactivity of division. He made stirring speeches about expecting the best out of everybody and listening to everybody, even those across the aisle. Most of all, he didn't take cheap shots at other candidates. He did something completely new...he actually talked about what he would like to do. He seemed different...like less of a Politician.

And I had hoped John McCain would be different. He has always gone out of his way to step outside the political boundaries. He resisted cheap shots early on, too...talking about some of the changes he hoped to be a part of. And he had always seemed like an affable, even-keeled, and open kind of guy to me. I got excited, too, when he went way out into left field to find an unconventional VP from a small town.

But..sure enough...at the conventions, the "teeth" and the "red meat" came out. I rallied my hopes again for the Obama speech. They guy's a heck of a speaker...and I was hoping for that "Early Obama," a sweeping, inspirational speech that would talk about what was possible, about his goals and vision...about who he is and what he hopes to do. He had some of that (I loved that part of his speech that talked about working towards a common good), but there was also plenty of blaming, jabs, and "fear the other guy" junk. And then, last night, I was hoping for something down-to-earth, connected, and real...and there was some of that (moments of wit and stories of how her roots formed her that I enjoyed) but, again, it didn't take long for the chainsaw to come out big-time...and just like the crowds at the DNC, the cheers were the loudest for the cheap shots.

And so these "outsiders" both followed suit with all-too-familiar speeches that I honestly feel (at this point) like I could write myself. RNC? Talk about guns, right-to-life, cutting taxes, insert God here and there...and make sure to mention how (insert Democrat here) will raise taxes, hurt small businesses, hates America, and doesn't really love Jesus. DNC? Talk about the environment, about social programs, reducing defense spending, and the evils of big business...and make sure to mention how (insert Republican here) is in the pocket of big oil, kills pandas for fun, wants to nuke every country that looks at us funny, and uses Jesus as a billy club.

I swear I could do it for them. And it's because I've learned from the same place they have...from the whims and methods of the parade of the soulless, blathering pundits that vomit "opinion" 24-hours a day on the news network of your choice. They want their candidates to mirror them...with more "red meat" and "conviction." They want them to be as arrogant, rude, and obstinate as they are...and compromise, rationality, and (God forbid) even listening to the "other guy" are not options. Interrupt, man! Yell louder! Put words in their mouth! Play soundbites over and over and over again. Michelle Obama hates America! Cindy McCain's a rich snob! Tear them all to pieces bit by bit by bit until there's nothing left that's noble or special or inspirational about them. For heaven's sake, don't ever admit you might be wrong...it's media bias! Attack! Defend! Rip them to shreds. Make them live in fear.

It wears me out...and it depresses me because I have come to realization that we will probably never have another great American president or another great American speech. Both require leadership and a hope for something greater on the part of the listeners. There will never be another Abraham Lincoln because every president will be immediately torn limb from limb by a collection of reporters, bloggers, and the like and irrationally deified by others. There will never be another Gettysburg Address because speeches that are meant to heal or unite us will be D.O.A. because they "flip-flop too much" and don't "appeal to the base." We'll just keeping doing what we've done to Clinton and Bush...vilifying or canonizing, depending on if you watch MSNBC or FoxNews or have an "R" or a "D" after your name on your driver's license. And the votes will continue to float around 50% as the people trying to figure it out just settle on "giving the other party another try."

And so I register Independent and hope for something else...for someone and something completely different. I wait to feel like somebody's being genuine. I wait for it not to be about the money. I wait for the day when I don't feel like I'm voting for the lesser of two evils. I wait for the day when the devolving political discourse leaves our political stages and churches. I wait for the day when I'm not called "naive" or "indecisive" because I don't blame the Republicans or the Democrats.

And I sigh as I watch the news and the conventions...because I'm not holding my breath.