The only redeeming quality of summers in the Mid-Atlantic region is the tomatoes. On Monday I got my hands on some lovely ones. So far I’ve eaten two tomato sandwiches. The ideal way to prepare a tomato sandwich, in my opinion, is on white bread with mayonnaise and a sprinkling of kosher salt. Sometimes I’ll add fresh basil.

These lovely tomatoes have stems that go quite deep meaning my usual technique fails to remove the nasty hard green stuff cleanly. On my first attempt I nearly stabbed the palm of my hand. On my second attempt I ended up with tomato juice dripping down to my elbow, happily I was leaning over the sink at the time.

After my bridge game ended early, I went to Target to buy some more of a particular style and brand of t-shirt that I particularly like and is currently on sale.

This entire Target was redesigned about a year ago. They stopped only just short of tearing down the building and starting from the foundation up which allowed them to stay open throughout. There were many months of the story having taken on a completely different layout every time I went there. Tonight one corner of the store was cordoned off for yet more renovations. Perhaps they are adding a swimming pool or some tennis courts.

It is 21¢ cheaper to buy boxes of Kleenex individually as compared to in a four-pack. My only explanation is that they are attempting to take advantage of those who are made to purchase several boxes for their child to take to school in the Fall.

Near the area that was under construction, there was a trail of gummy bears on the floor. I followed it until it came to a halt in a small, gruesome pile of bears. No explanation of this was forthcoming.

At Wednesday night’s unit wide game, my bridge partner from Monday night did not openly weep when it became apparent he was stuck with me again. We had an average game, came in second for our class and in the middle of the pack overall. I would have liked to hit it out of the park, but mistakes were still there to be made and make them I did. There was some consolation though as these were mostly due to bad judgment as compared to outright stupidity which was an improvement over my performance Monday. Plus the competition there was much stiffer overall so not coming in last seemed like an accomplishment in and of itself.

I have been studying more in the meantime. One of the frustrating aspects of this game is that four different books can and will advocate four different schools of thought on even the most basic guidelines, like when and how to open a hand. This makes gleaning the wheat from the chaff especially difficult. I give strong preference to the guidelines my teacher has given me, but I still attempt to reason through the differences in thinking to reach the best conclusion. For every rule there is an exception. For every exception there are differing, often antithetical positions. Considering I’m still working on mastering the basics this is a very time consuming process.

There’s something a bit strange happening with the local “alternative rock” FM radio station. My current theory is that it was purchased by Mormons.

First there was the version of “You Oughta Know” that eliminated the phrase, “go down on you” in its entirety, while removing only the first consonant in the following use of the word “fuck”. This behavior can only really be explained by an editor thinking we won’t be able to guess what should have been there. (They clearly had no problem leaving the previously redacted lyric wholly mystifying to someone unfamiliar with the song: “What would she do in a theater? Watch a movie? Eat popcorn? What?!”)

Then this morning they played “Message in a Bottle” by the Police.

Case closed.

Addendum 24 July 2009:

This morning the Mormons subjected me to a particularly pathetic cover of “99 Luftballoons” by Goldfinger. Clearly, this is part of an insidious plot, but to what end?

There is something silly about devoting a lot of time and mental energy to something as a frivolous as a card game; and that appeals to me on some level even while I feel a little guilty about not doing something more productive.

Last night I played as if someone had surgically removed my intraparietal sulcus immediately prior to my sitting down at the tables. It was ugly and still we had a fighting chance at second going into the last round and I made one particularly disastrous error that allowed us to be swept to the bottom of the pile. My poor partner was the same one from the week before when we temporarily fell victim to the scoring mix-up. I deserved this week’s last place finish, but he didn’t. Who knows, maybe this upcoming Monday night he’ll just chalk the experience up to bad juju. He is a far better player than I, which is both the reason I’d like to play with him and the reason I don’t think he’ll be willing to play with me again.

I whined about my performance to Daniel for at least an hour or two last night (he was very patient about it). When I woke up too early this morning I wasn’t able to fall back asleep. There was, of course, only one remedy. I went back to play again tonight.

They have been trying, somewhat unsuccessfully it would seem, to revive a game on Tuesday nights. In light of this, I called ahead of time and left a message to confirm that we were on tonight and waited anxiously by the phone until the director called and told me to go ahead and come in. My presence put us at seven players, we needed eight for a game so many phone calls were made both before and after I arrived. My much put-upon partner from last night wasn’t there and was unavailable when they called him, but I don’t know if they told him they were looking for a partner for me or not. Anyway, tonight my playing was much improved. I had a few mistakes on the beginning boards, but soon enough I found my rhythm and I enjoyed myself thoroughly.

When I first started I could hardly fathom playing one trick only to then claim all the remaining tricks, it turns out not to be that difficult a feat (with the right cards, of course). What is much more impressive to me now is when someone is able to lay down his or her hand and tell you how many more tricks you’ll take. This shows a handle of not just their own hand, but everyone else’s hand as well. Such an ability is but a distant glimmer on the horizon for me. I have not yet mastered keeping count of all four suits.

My teacher keeps saying I am going to be a good bridge player and when the other students in my class get frustrated about a seeming lack of progress, he tells them that my progress is because of the things I’m doing outside of the lessons, which is true; but I’ve been slacking off of late, not reading all the bridge books I’ve acquired, not reviewing my notes in between classes and so on. I will still have nights like last night even if I buckle down, but I see the next level and to get to it I’m going to have to start working a bit harder at this trivial exertion.

Michael Pollan (“The Omnivores Dilemma”, “In Defense of Food”) has cited the ranchers in Argentina and the way they rotate land between crops and cattle as an example of how to sustainably maximize yield without using chemical pesticides. To over-simplify: The cows fertilize the land for the crops, the cows eat the plants left behind after the crops and taste better for it, the pests are confused when their crop of choice disappears and they find themselves being stepped on by cows.

Per capita, Argentinians consume more beef than anyone else and Argentinean beef is known for being some of the best in the world. The current government there, however, is seeking to undermine that industry in a bid to provide cheaper food to their poorest constituents. They have raised the taxes on exports of and put price caps in place on items like wheat and … beef. The result is that more and more farmers and ranchers are turning to crops like soybeans which are not widely consumed in Argentina and have escaped these measures. Beef production is down and wheat production is at its lowest levels since the late 1800s.

It is almost impossible, at this point, to see this as “the law of unintended consequences” at work because it would be beyond quixotic to think this wouldn’t happen. The fact is bad governments starve people. One would think we had enough examples of that already.

The scores posted for Monday night’s game had my partner and I coming in last place, which was an unpleasant surprise. While my performance on Monday night was not transcendent, it wasn’t that bad. Some further investigation revealed that we had been assigned to the wrong pair number, and post-correction we were third. I feel much better about that (plus I get about .3 mps), but I hope they get the new scores posted quickly so the other pair doesn’t witness their fall in standings.

A persistent spider has taken up residence in the lower right-hand corner of one of my living room windows. I say “persistent” because the breeze keeps the web in a state of perpetual motion even when the weather is relatively calm and so the delicate structure is rendered into tatters within a day or so. However, I have reason to suspect that the spider’s industrious foolhardiness is inspired by something other than the view. In the midst of the webbing, I can just make out the words, “Damn good cat”.

I went to a late showing of The Hangover last night. I wanted to see it mostly because I think Zach Galifianakis is hilarious. While I don’t entirely agree with the reviewer who called it “the Reservoir Dogs of party movies,” there is something intriguing about a plot that revolves around an event the viewer does not witness. I’ve been concocting scenarios in my head, none of them even come close to explaining the state of the hotel room the morning after. I agree with Ed Helms when he said that the presence of a chicken is a universal sign of chaos.

I was a bit surprised at the size of the crowd at the showing considering it was a Tuesday night. Everyone else in the theater was twelve, so that made for a good crowd for watching this kind of movie. Of course, by “everyone else” I mean about 75% of the audience and by “12″ I mean 16. One of the twelve year-olds was talking before the movie began and he sounded exactly like Seth Rogen. Enough so that I turned around in my seat just to check. Then I had to wonder if it was an affectation or if he was simply capitalizing from a natural tendency to sound like an actor most of the girls his age probably know. It would be really funny if he had no idea who Seth Rogen is, but that seems unlikely.

The Philadelphia Police are at it again. This time they went into an art gallery and removed all of the paintings being exhibited by an artist named Justin Nagtalon (AKA “El Toro”) who was convicted of vandalism two years ago. Story here.

It gets better though, Officer James Quick of the 9^th has been cyber stalking the artist in question for several months and doing so with tricky AOL monikers like “The Police!!” Should I even bother to mention what using AOL says about his web savvy?

I guess we’re just lucky they didn’t fire bomb the gallery instead.