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November 19, 2008

Cleaning out the metaphysical closet

Here's Multimedia Editor Emeritus, Biker Dude and Deep Thinker John Lindner with this week's Shallow Thought Wednesday. I'm sure everyone expected it to be on creamed corn. I know I did.

How many of you had to look up "elutriate"? It sure wasn't on my word-of-the-day calendar. What about "salubrious"? EL

"In preparation for Thanksgiving, I spent Saturday morning cleaning my metaphysical closet.

Of course, when you tidy up the MC, you elutriate your very soul. And all such purgings, like, for instance, cleaning your garage, share the same salubrious properties.

Now you can find things, sometimes things you forgot you had: the antique apple corer, the thrice used exercycle, the embarrassing tamborine. (Free advice: you oughtn’t let someone else clean your spaces. You’ll return to foreign ground where events took place and items were rearranged outside your brain’s subliminal catalog. You won’t be able to find anything and you’ll often wonder, “Did the bastard steal from me?”) 

Since it wouldn’t be Shallow Thought Wednesday if I didn’t waste your precious time, I decided to share some of the treasures I pulled from my closet.

Quote that’s source escapes me:
"If you have nothing nice to say about anyone, come sit next to me" (or words to that effect).

Foods I will never serve for Thanksgiving:
 1. Creamed corn
 2. Sea cucumbers
 3. Salmon loaf

 Why does tobacco taste best after meals and accomplishments?"

Posted by Elizabeth Large at 10:51 AM | | Comments (53)


Because tobacco amplifies victory -- the delicious victory of eating a large, scrumptious meal, or the proud victory of accomplishment. Tobacco: Be victorious.

Seven out of eight doctors approve this message.

Do I get a prize for identifying the creamed corn quote yesterday?

Quote that’s source escapes me:
"If you have nothing nice to say about anyone, come sit next to me" (or words to that effect).
- Olympia Dukakis' charactor in Steel Magnolias.

I believe the quote is from Dorothy Parker.

I had to look up the elutriate but for some reason knew what salubrious meant.

Like, tobacco has no salubrious properties.

"If you haven't got anything nice to say about anybody, come sit next to me."
- Alice Roosevelt Longworth

The "come sit by me" quote was embroidered on a pillow on Alice Roosevelt Longworth's sofa. T.R.'s daughter had a long career in Washington society and a reputation for sharp remarks. She said of Calvin Coolidge, "He looks as though he's been weaned on a pickle."

If you have nothing nice to say about anyone, come sit next to me"

This quote's been around forever. One of the best uses was by Clairee (Olympia Dukakis) in Steel Magnolias.

Accomplishments? Thats what we're calling sex now?

Why does tobacco taste best after meals and accomplishments?"

If you were a "leafie" you would understand. It has to do with having a very broad palate. Broad enough to be able to taste the subtle differences in tobaccos.

Yes, I had to look up "elutriate". It's sort of a Parlor word, isn't it?

Wow - so I'm not the only one who found a tamborine in the basement. It was with the 40-year old bongos.

The 70s were way cool and groovy, kiddies...

All of this talk this week about creamed corn has put me in the mood for a good southern style corn pudding. Now, to find a recipe. Thanks a lot, John!

But, Bucky, I'm sure you and I knew the meaning of "salubrious." Since when is that an uncommon word?

I'm not a smoker so it's probably not for me to say but I think it has something to do with prolonging the oral gratification that a good meal provides without consuming more calories.

Let's get metaphysical....

Dahlink, I knew "salubrious", but I looked it up, to make sure I was right. It's not exactly a common word among my circle of friends.

OMG was first to get the quote source. Thanks OMG.
Regina: Ha ha. I don't believe you.
Eve: Hahahahahahaha. Nope.
Yo Bucky!

Why does tobacco taste best after meals and accomplishments?

Uh, because it's a drug and addicts always love their drugs. It artificially stimulates the production of various neurotransmitters that go nicely with the ones that eating produced. It has nothing to do with your palate.

Bucky, "parlor word"...I like that. Never heard it before, but I know exactly what you mean. I plan on stealing it.

In fact, I have this urge to go down to the Owl Bar, and accuse someone there of using parlor words...

Lissa, it's from the word-nerd blog--they want something comparable to the "sandbox" and it looks as if it's going to be "parlour." They didn't like my suggestion of "Nitpickers," evidently.

Lissa, in case you missed it, I believe Bucky was referring to Mr McIntyre's blog "You Don't Say". You should check it out, they could use you over there.

OMG explained: Uh, because it's a drug and addicts always love their drugs. It artificially stimulates the production of various neurotransmitters that go nicely with the ones that eating produced. It has nothing to do with your palate.

Well, that's one explanation. But if you're a leafie, then you know the truth. It's palate.

Lissa - I was, indeed, trying to shill for You Don't Say, here in our beloved Sandbox. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.

Over there on the word blog, I voted for Parlor. But, there will only be one Sandbox.

Apologies to our Blog Raptor who despises that name.

Ah. I did wander over to Mr. McIntyre's blog once or twice. I love words. I should head back and visit some more. I reckon he'd let a dyslexic in if I remembered to spell check.


The rituals and secondary sense distinctions are ancillary to any drug. I've seen a lot of pretty glass bongs, but the owners are not glass enthusiasts. Comma, dude.

A leafie? Come on. How many twee self-tags do we need? I've been quiet, but "foodie" makes me recoil. Why do we as adults have to denigrate ourselves as foodies in a sandbox? Are oenophiles going to be grapeys now? Self-naming and labelling just bothers me in general. I can't even commit to the same name for ten minutes. Uh oh, it almost turned into therapy by blog there ...

I feel self-consious on McIntyre's blog, like someone is looking over my shoulder watching for grammar errors. Plus I forget to downshift to second gear for their more gentile vibe. They are considering calling themselves "The Parlour" -- sweet fancy Moses!

OMG: I was (mostly) kidding about "leafie". Although it is useful when discussing tobacco habits to differentiate between smokers and chewers. Have engaged in both habits, and to an extreme, I don't think smokers can tell the difference in tobaccos, but their are discernable differences when you chew it. Thus, the palate argument.

We agree on giving oneself (or oneselves?) a nickname. As I understand it, "Sandbox" arose spontaneously, not as the result of democracy.

We also agree that going into The Parlor is somehow intimidating. Based on a feeling I get that is similar to what you describe, I was going to suggest "The Principal's Office." But I got into the process too late.

OMG: just be your usual sweet, loveable self over at the "parlour". You don't have to downshift, and you don't have to feel self-conscious over there. Tough on them if they don't "get" you.
My mantra is: they don't know who I am so it doesn't matter. If I am out in public it is: I will never see these people again".

They are very nice at You Don't Say. I can't help but feel language self-conscious though. I've got so many things to work on from the Big Bag of Neuroses before I get to that.

I think everyone can tell the difference between smoked tobaccos. Right? I'm a non-smoker and I can tell the difference quite easily. They are like beer. Most people smoke disgusting "light" cigarettes, the equivalent of light beers. Even the gold standard Marlboros are quite different in different parts of the world. When I dabbled, I preferred Camel filterless, Dunhills, Gitanes, Galoises or if really depressed the Pall Mall filterless 100s. I had some Russian cigarettes in college and I can still remember that horrible taste.

Habitual smokers ruined smoking for everyone.

No comment on the Box of Sand. It was the tyrrany of the spontaneous group mind, a pretty close approximation of democracy, which I'm no fan of.

Owl, I'm glad to hear that I'm not the only one that hates "foodie".

"Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly

I have often been cautious of such invites since Mary Howitt's poem

Bucky: "The Principal's Office". Perfect.

Cosmo Girl: That's exactly how I feel about OMG. They should be thrilled to receive a gentleman caller such as himself in the parlour.

You are too kind Laura Lee.

Solidarity Hal.

OMG, you smoked Camel straights? That was my choice of poison, when not rolling my own (a habit I started at high school to hack off the guards)for 30 years.

Those Russian smokes...were they the black ones with the gold filter ends? At college, we thought they were even more sophisticated than clove cigarettes.

I smoked plain filterless Camels with a white hot passion for smoking for a few weeks when I lived in Boston. Then I forgot to one day and never did again. I used to smoke while walking to work. I smoked while working out. I used to open all the windows to my office at ____ in January and smoke while working. I was committed. Nicotine is not addictive for everyone, thank god.

Sobranys. Those were the Russian cigarettes.

If you saw a female cabbie go by in Boston, Owlie, with a filterless Camel, that was me.

Lissa, were you there around 1991-92? I took a lot of cabs then.

No, I was a hack in Boston (different meaning to the word there, cabbies had to get hack licenses) in '84.

Anyone who ridicules anyone else over grammar, usage, spelling or typos at You Don't Say will get a foretaste of The Wrath To Come.

ooh Bucky did you see McIntryre's post above? Sounds like Owl Meat Grammarian.....

JMc - "a foretaste of The Wrath To Come"?

is it possible to have such unpleasantness in the parlour? i would ask if it involves spanking but that would probably not be appropriate.

I think the box of sand people have a complex about visiting your blog:

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?

You guys shouldn't be afraid of McIntyre's blog. Copy editors are human (breaking news!) and make mistakes, too. I've pointed out errors in John's blog posts a couple of times, and he thanked me for doing so.

That said, I do find myself double-checking my posts there before pressing the "Post" button.

Spanking and Prufrock in the same post? How British, Bourbon Girl.

LJ - I hear you. Every time I get this close to thinking they are different people, one of them writes something that sounds like it came from the other one and I become reconvinced that Yes, Virginia, there is an Owl Meat Grammarian.

(I should say that Mr. McIntyre has never, ever ridiculed me in his blog even though he has had many, many legitimate opportunities to do so. Nevertheless, it is intimidating to write there. Because I always think I know what he must be thinking.)

Spanking and Prufrock in the same post? How British, Bourbon Girl.

That's my BG. Lissa, you really stepped on it with that British comment though. Uh oh.

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?

In the past two days Mr McIntyre's blog has generated more comments on Dining@Large than on You Don't Say.

I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous--
Almost, at times, the Fool.

In the past two days Mr McIntyre's blog has generated more comments on Dining@Large than on You Don't Say.

You don't say...

I think the cross-blog camaraderie is interesting, even fascinating. And here's how you can tell I'm not McIntyre: I just came up with a word in my head for this - croblogarie or crombladerie. Meh. I still like bligilantes though.

Mr. McIntyre - Quoting T.S. Eliot doesn't make you less intimidating.

(But I suspect you knew that.)

No, for threatening, you have to quote Tupac Shakur. Or Egil Skallagrimson.

Patterson Dog Park!!!!!

Peter Frampton!

(are we just yelling out random stuff?)

" I flunked a metaphysical exam in college..I cheated, I peered into the soul of the person sitting next to me"

W. Allen

Well, Laura Lee, in response to your comment about Dining@Large vs. You Don't Say, I can only say

[earworm alert!]

Is there anybody out there lookin for a party?
Shake your moneymaker baby, smoke it if you got it
We just wanna have some fun if you don't wanna - kiss this
Everybody raise your hands come on I need a witness

We got it going on
We'll be bangin and sangin just like the Rolling Stones
We're gonna shake up your souls, we've come to rattle your bones
Cause we got it going on

You got a ticket to kick it, I wanna hear you scream now
Because tonight you've got the right to let your hair down
When everybody's gettin down, we're gettin down to business
Insane, freak train, you don't wanna miss this

We got it going on
We'll be bangin and sangin just like the Rolling Stones
We're gonna shake up your souls, we've come to rattle your bones
Cause we got it going on

spam at 1:06 AM

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About this blog
Richard Gorelick was appointed The Baltimore Sun's restaurant critic in September 2010. Before joining the paper staff fulltime, he contributed freelance criticism and features articles about food to area and regional publications. Along the way, he dispatched for short-distance trucking companies, shilled for cultural non-profits, and assisted in cognitive neurology research – never the subject, always the control.

He takes restaurants seriously but not himself, and his favorite restaurant is the one you love, too.

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