Hurricane Naming Made Easy

It seems that I'm not up on my Spanish currently. For those of you who don't watch the news or are rusty on your Spanish, the hurricane that has meandered along the East Coast and is loitering who knows where over the Atlantic Ocean is pronounced wah-keen, not joe-can.

It's important that someone save the less informed from any undue embarrassment that could be caused from improper pronunciation.

I would like to take this opportune moment to address the powers that be that actually assign names to hurricanes. That, in fact, would be an international committee of the World Meteorological Organization.

Joaquin? Really? I'm not saying it's a bad name. Quite to the contrary, it's a pretty cool name. From what I understand, it's a relatively common Spanish name that comes from the Hebrew name Joachim, which literally means, according to Wikipedia, "lifted by Yahweh."

Regardless of what the name means, some people see the "J" and get confused as to how to pronounce it, though I'm not going to name any names

For you folks at the WMO, I'm all for unique names! In fact, let's go for some different, unique names like, perhaps, Hurricane Ace. Now that has a nice ring to it! So do hurricanes Bob and Lilly. 

It is but a mere coincidence that those happen to be the names of my three fuzzy, black dogs!

Here are some others for your committee members to ponder over for future hurricanes. They are as follows: Harper, Davis, Ariabella, Ethel, Franny (since Frances was retired, of course!), Carl, Mae, Spencer, Gray, Hannah, Buffy, and Beauwater.

While you don't necessarily have to credit me with supplying these other cool names, WMO, I won't mind if you do. It won't go to my head.

In the meantime, the name Joaquin has begun to grow on me. Perhaps if I acquire another fuzzy, black dog, I'll name him Joaquin.

Men, Women, and Foreign Objects

I have extensive knowledge on the subject of women. I grew up the middle child between two girls. I've been married for nearly 21 years. Trust me... I know stuff!

The most important thing that any guy needs to know about women is that they don't like foreign, unsightly, or out-of-place objects. Allow me to elaborate with a simple test.

Study, if you will, the photo above. Then proceed to the multiple choice answers listed below. While there may be more than one correct answer, you may pick only one.

A. Wow! This dude can't even take a decent selfie. Perhaps there's something wrong with him...

B. Hmm... I don't see anything wrong with this photo. Whatever.

C. Goodness. That's a long hair. He should probably cut it.

D. OMG! Foreign object alert! Somebody, quick, hand me the tweezers and stand back! 

If you picked A, that means you're a guy and you're only half correct. While I may not be the best selfie taker, I'm a pretty well adjusted, with-it, and swell kind of guy! Really!

If you picked B, you are, without a doubt, a guy. And you're right! There's really nothing... Too wrong about this photo.

If you picked C, your powers of observation are impressive. However, define long. Now define too long. Also, if I cut it, wouldn't another just grow out to take its place? Just some questions to ponder...

If you picked D, no doubt about it, you're a woman, plain and simple. This is okay, of course, because oftentimes men need women in their lives to take of these types of things.

My wife eradicated the "offending foreign object" last night with a pair of tweezers and extreme prejudice!

To my wife, and all women out there, men aren't weenies. It really does hurt, and for more than just a second, too! I nearly called in sick to my school due to the excruciating pain I felt upon waking...

Gluten Free Fiesta Lasagna. Ole!

I have a very funny wife. She tells me that she's not creative or handy in the kitchen. Yet, she came up with a new recipe off the top of her head just last night. Guess what? It was delicious!

Normally, the person who creates the meal gets the credit. Take, for example, Phillip's Fabulous Gluten Free (GF) Crackers or Phillip's Famous GF Faked Ziti. Both delicious, if I do say so myself.

Anyway, my wife didn't want credit or her name used in this blog, so I'm simply calling it GF Fiesta Lasagna. Ole!

Now, the true food connoisseurs out there are going to want to test this amazing new recipe for themselves. You are in luck since I penned the recipe to paper, more or less. Here are the ingredients:

1lb ground beef

Can of black beans

Can of whole corn

Half cup of salsa (or more, or less... I forgot to measure it!)

Pretty good amount of cheddar and colby jack cheeses, shredded and mixed

GF taco seasoning (I make my own using garlic, cumin, chili powder, and paprika -- amounts unknown! I forgot to measure!)

GF corn tortillas

Can (bigger) of crushed tomatoes

1 beer (wine or ale, if you prefer. This is strictly for the cook's consumption!)

Brown your meat. Add a little water (just a little!) and taco seasonings. Cook. Drain and rinse black beans. Add to mixture. Drain corn. Add to mixture. Add salsa. Add tomatoes. Cook some on stove top set somewhere safely between Off and Hi.

Don't forget (like I did!) to preheat the oven. More than 300, but less than 400 degrees. Perhaps I set mine for 375? I think?

Start with meat sauce and layer, placing tortillas on next. Then sauce, cheese, tortillas, sauce and end with the cheese. It's not Southern without the cheese on top!

Then just cook it for a while. Mine warmed as the oven preheated, but I think it was in for a total of 35 minutes. If you subtract the 10 minutes I'm guessing it takes my oven to preheat, I guess it cooked for 25 minutes? Maybe?

Anyway, if you want a vegetarian version of this, try going to my friend's cooking blog, www.cookingwithcrago.blogspot.com. She's a real chef who measures ingredients and knows how to use ovens and stove tops! Go figure!

Happy eating!

Teacher's Guide to the New Year

The new academic year is nearly upon us. New students, old students, books, pencils, classrooms, and grades will all be in full swing in a little more than a week.

An exciting time for parents looking for a little quiet time in their day, but a busy time for teachers. And teacher assistants, too, of course. Really.

Three days into school, this pile of pencils will be missing!

I've created a helpful guide for new teachers, as well as refresher notes for experienced teachers who have foolishly donned their rose colored glasses.

Here are the significant details in a nutshell.

There will be a lot of kids. They will be all sorts of ethnicities. This is okay, as long as they're human. A few may argue with you over that fact, but that, in fact, is normal.

Out of these kids, a handful will be male. The rest will be female. If you're lucky, the numbers of male to female will be even. If not, that's cool too.

Some of the males will cause trouble, as will some of the females. Don't worry too much about who they are. They'll let you know in their own special way just as soon as they are able.

Hopefully, they'll all be wearing clothes. Discourage the discarding of clothes throughout the day. If you don't teach, don't laugh. It's a thing!

Now each one of these unique little beings is different and each one has his or her own name. Confusing, but this, also, is a good thing. Otherwise, the rest of the year will become even more confusing.

The first day can be summed up in one simple word -- chaos. Here's the short answer why...

Take all the ingredients above, mix them together in a single room known as Miss Whoever's room. Add in a peanut allergy. Don't add Johnny next to Junie because he's gross and makes her throw up. Mix Jerry near the board since he can't see. Don't mix Junior near the computer because he has no self-control. And no matter where you mix Jarrell, he'll still lay on his desk bubbling and burbling, pretending to be a fish!

This, of course, is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. It can, and sometimes does, get worse.

Don't believe me? Just ask any teacher you know. They'll tell you.

Local University Flaunts Extraterrestrial Tech

I'm eight classes into graduate school. I'm four weeks into my Master's degree. That gives me approximately two years to go, right? The question begging to be answered is -- will I make it?

At this point, I'm simply not sure if I will or not. The technology may kill me first!

I had a rude awakening about three classes ago. Here's what happened in a nutshell.

Two women -- and I use that term loosely since they, as well as my classmates, all look like teenagers to this 47 year-old -- wheeled in what looked like a hibachi style, silver metal cooking table.

The table turned out to be a "laptop cart." They opened hidden doors to reveal a neat, precise row of wafer thin, silver squares. It looked scary. The squares, it turned out, were laptops.

I watched my classmates and tried to replicate them by walking to the station, unplugging one of the sinister looking, silver seeds, and placing it on my desk before me.

Man, those things were small! My first cell phone was bigger than those little laptops!

Regardless, I continued to imitate the women. As I did, I noticed the fruit emblazoned upon the device. Hmm... I opened it up. That began my first panic attack.

It took a moment, but I did find the 'on' button. Whew! My panic ebbed a bit. And then it came back in full force. Darn High Point University and its alien technology!

Where the *BLEEP* were all my buttons! The 'F' keys were missing! The number pad was gone! And, most importantly, my left and right click buttons simply were not there! In fact, there were NO clicky buttons!

The alien device's screen glowed, staring at me. It silently mocked me. I assessed the distance from my desk to the door and gauged how quickly I could run from the classroom.

As luck would have it, all these young women, as well as the professor, are incredibly nice. They're respectful to the elderly and have given me a crash course on operating the university's crazy technology.

That, of course, leads me to my next question... How do these women know how to operate this extraterrestrial tech?

High Point's Hidden Wonders

Every time I turn around, I discover something new, unusual, or unique about my home town of High Point. It seems you just have to keep your eyes open to see these things.

Some are pretty obvious, like the giant comma, masquerading as a round-a-bout. For those of us who live near it, the comma offers up a bit of fun as we watch the traffic navigate it. Scary, but quite entertaining!

Some are not as obvious, like the million square feet of business space in our downtown that's only used four to six months out of every year. Hmmm...

And of course we harbor the worlds largest chest of drawers here in High Point. I think we advertise that in our brochures about our fair city. I'm pretty sure we have brochures... I'll check into that one.

A little less known is the giant, unused mall that resides within the confines of our city. The idea "if you build it, they will come" apparently does not pertain to shopping malls.

Meanwhile, High Point University, which used to be not much larger than a postage stamp, has grown to immense proportions. Word through the High Point grapevine says that HPU may be converting that mall into something more useful.

Now I've discovered an alligator farm across the street from the little elementary school where I work! Will wonders never cease!

I walked across the street to get a better look at it this past Friday. I did not see a farm. Nor did I see any alligators. I did, however, spot a sign of hope!

NC Governor Surprises Fourth Grade Field Trip

"That was the governor that just walked over your heads," I told some of our fourth-graders during our Raleigh field trip yesterday. We were touring the Capitol Building as an important meeting finished up.

"Huh?" was one response. Another said, "what?" and one student said, "who?"

"The North Carolina Governor," I said. "You know, Pat McCrory! The guy the lady in the legislative building mentioned just a little earlier?"

I got even more puzzled looks from my fourth-graders. A brusque, but polite voice immediately behind me asked me to move myself and the children to one side.

I did as I was told. I straightened up. I turned around and stood face-to-face with the 74th Governor of North Carolina, Patrick Lloyd "Pat" McCrory.

This may be a good time to tell you about this funny quirk in my personality. I attribute it to my ADD. Basically, when something takes me totally by surprise, I have a tendency to blurt out something from the deep, dark recesses of my brain.

I shook his hand. I looked him in the eye (like a deer caught in headlights!). I even shared some words with Governor McCrory! Words of encouragement, I'm sure.

I puffed up with pride. I went on with the remainder of my field trip with a newfound swagger in my step and my chin held high. After all, I just shook hands with our state's governor!

It wasn't until we were all safely on the bus heading home when it hit me. For the life of me, I simply couldn't recall my words to the governor as I exuberantly shook his hand.

So, Pat, if you're reading this, feel free to leave a comment on Fuzzy, Black Dogs telling me what I said. I can't handle another sleepless night wondering!