CALMLY IGNORING THE FORTY NINERS

This blogger is not a football aficionado. I hope you aren't surprised.
 It wasn't until sometime after six o'clock today that I ascertained that the hometown team won against another group of players. Which, I have been lead to believe, means more mayhem next weekend.
You can probably imagine my exultation.
Which is very close to nil.
A negative figure.
Yay minus.


I spent the entire day polishing pipes. Mild buffing of oxidized stems, de-tarnishing silver bands and fittings. The gentlemen (and I use that term loosely) who populate the cigar lounge arrived early, and spent several hours swearing and cussing. As well as possibly scratching their pits, screaming, yelling, hooting, hollering, leaping on the furniture, and
generally making ridiculous and complete asses of themselves.

They and I had an excellent day.

I tried to ignore them.

And their cigars.


Some of my favourite people smoke cigars. But, as became clear early on, while pipesmoking inculcates calmness and an even temperament, cigars do not.

Cigars, it should be known, are an excellent digestive aid for pizza and fried corn snacks. Neither of which were present in my modest mid-day meal.
It was never the less a satisfying repast without them.

Tomorrow I shall go into Chinatown for real food.


茄子龍利魚飯或者苦瓜豬肉飯。

There are far fewer insane and foulmouthed sportsfiends in Chinatown than elsewhere in the Bay Area. Screaming like a maniac with pizza dribbling down one's jersey is not, strictly speaking, a particularly Chinese thing to do. It seems so undignified, don't you think?

There's only one establishment I know of in C'town where they even have the game on -- whatever the game at that time is -- for the benefit of the European and Midwestern tourists who make the right choice and wander in for excellent food. The sound is off. The staff do not watch large men in shiny clothing disporting themselves.

That particular place does a dynamite version of bitter melon and pork over rice (苦瓜豬肉飯 fu gwa chü yiuk fan). They actually specialize in noodle dishes, however, of which there is a substantial selection to choose from, and there's a big bottle of Sriracha hotsauce on every table.

One of the other rice-plates for which I have a mid-winter yen is eggplant with fish over rice (茄子龍利魚飯 ke ji lung lei yü fan).
Also great with hot sauce.

The term for the kind of fish most often used (flounder) is 龍利魚 (lung lei yü), meaning "dragon profit fish". It's probably just a phonetic transcription of a tribal term used in central or southern China before the Sinitic languages took over, and the second element (利 lei: profit) is sometimes replaced by 例 (lai: precedent, example) or 列 (laat: organized in a set, lined up) in other fish names.

I had eggplant with fish over rice yesterday evening after returning from scenes of madness in Marin County. It satisfied the man within. Life, in many ways, is all about keeping the mature individual inside oneself reasonably content.
Football does not do that; it riles up the inner psycho.
I may be defective; I have no inner nut.
But I feel no less normal.
Not deficient.


安安定定、冷冷靜靜。

The mature individual inside oneself likes simple tasty things to eat. Caffeinated beverages. Female company (of which there hasn't been any in a while). Books (including dictionaries and reference works). Pipe tobacco (both aged Virginias as well as English-Oriental blends), doodads, pottery and porcelain, the occasional chocolate or cookie, and a warm coverlet or throw rug for cold and rainy days.


I cannot imagine myself screaming, yelling, and stomping on the ground. Well, NOT over sports, at least.


Maybe over hot chocolate.



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