You can take the trash out of Texas.....

The former White House Chef, Walter Scheib, has written a book outlining how difficult the Bush Family was to cook for. While not exactly a "tell-all", he talks about things like Laura Bush handing him recipes out of a Martha Stewart Magazine, and asking him to make it look "just like the picture" and how the President doesn't like "green food" or "soggy fish"

But the best part is the Inaugural menu (this excerpted from the swift report)

Tensions were further exacerbated, say sources close to the chef, by White House orders that Scheib create a special inaugural menu to honor the brand names represented by more than a dozen top GOP and Bush campaign donors. Scheib was reportedly vocal about his unhappiness over having to create dishes that featured such ingredients as Coca-Cola, Krispy Kreme Doughnuts and Pilgrim's Pride Whole Butter Basted Turkeys.

Click on the Swift Report link to read the whole thing. The menu below is not a parody, and should, in my opinion, be Article One in Impeachment on the grounds of poor taste.

Glassware: An essential jewel in the Glittering Crown of Hospitality

I haven't droned on about matters taste and gracious entertaining recently, so I thought I would share some glassware with you.

I found this lovely set at one of Seattle's gems, That's Atomic (located at 1502 E Olive Way, on Beautiful Capitol Hill. Call ahead for hours (206) 325-3794) I like them because they aren't foofy, and they are dishwasher proof. The sad fact of too much vintage glassware is that it can't go in the dishwasher, lest their patterns wear off.

Nice crystal really is the crowning touch to a well-appointed table, building upon the solid foundation of quality linens, tasteful china, and sterling flatware. I never understand these young couples that get married and put a bunch of sensible crap on their registries. The real reason why people get married is for gifts, so you might as well get some good gifts, things you could never afford for yourself: China, Glass and Silver.

Of course, it's probably just as well that I'm, um, Not The Marrying Type, for my standards are so very high that most modern-day manufactuers cannot meet my expectations, and those that can usually aren't carried in the average department store. My poor guests would be left scrambling through thrift shops or clicking wildly on eBay or
replacements.com.

With the holidays approaching, it's a good time to take stock of your China, Glass, Silver and Linens, and make sure everything is in order. Deep in the social whirl is a terrible time to discover that your silver needs polishing or you don't have enough wine glasses to set a table for eight. One never knows when a dinner party may be dropped in your lap. Tempus Fugit, Darlings. Gather ye Rosebuds while Ye May.

With that, I leave you with the new glassware.

If you have to wear a suit, wear it right!

Once again, I feel the need to post about men and their suits.

I realize that one does not wear a suit unless one is required to. They are expensive and uncomfortable - a throwback from a more painful era, fashion-wise. But if you have to wear one, you might as well wear it right.

I'm not going to get into a big deal about two versus three buttons, or French Cuffs versus standard. I just ask that, if you want to look your best, button your jacket. ESPECIALLY if you are wearing a double-breasted suit. If you don't, it makes you look sloppy, and it makes you ass look big. If you have a big ass already, it makes your ass look HUGE. So please - just button up, especially if you want to be taken seriously, and not like some big-ass slob.

You can - and should - unbutton when you are seated. Better yet, if you are seated at your workspace, you may take your jacket off. But don't do that if you are at anything resembling a formal situation, including lunch.

That's it. Carry on.

Rush Limbaugh is a big fat asshole.

Yes, I know that has nothing to do with either furniture or china. But take a look at poor Michael J. Fox in this commercial that he did for a Democratic candidate, and then consider that Rush told his listeners that Fox was "just acting"

Hopefully, since Rush's audience skews quite old, and probably has experience with Parkinson's disease, they will see though that blowhard's bullshit.

Some Random Thoughts......

Here is collection of things I have been thinking about. None of them are worth an individual post, so I am dumping them all on you in this mind purge...

* Someone (not me) should write a series of novels which, like the unexplainably popular "Left Behind" series, discuss life after the rapture. But it should be about how nice it is now that the Christian Freaks have left. (please note, before anyone gets worked up, I am specifying Christian FREAKS. Christians of the non-freak variety would presumably be left here with the rest of us heathens. So unless you are a freak, you needn't get worked up.)

* I wish that I were wealthy enough (i.e. an estate worth four million or higher) so that I would actually have to worry about the Washington State "death tax" that the Blethen (Seattle Times) and Nordstom (Frederick & Nordstrom) families are trying to get repealled. I'm sure they are all peeved that Both William Gates (Jr and Sr) of Microsoft fame are against repealing it, as I am, and as you should be.

***you are voting, aren't you?***

* Just to beat the dead horse, let me say this: Repealing the estate tax in Washington State will blast a one hundred million dollar hole into the state education budget. It stands to reason that we will not have one hundred million dollars less of education, so somebody has to pick up that tab. Three guesses as to who that will be, my fellow middle class types..... Yes, You. And Me. That's just silly.

* Thanksgiving is once again bearing down on us, and once again Mother Langdon and Sister-Woman are coming to add to the festivities. We are under a deadline to get the Living Room, Hallway, Bedroom, and Basement painted. Plus the Colonel is going away. To Delaware, for goodness sake, for a week and a half. I am quietly freaking out, but not really.

* I'm in my countertop Rottisserie/Broiler phase. That probably means nothing to you, but it means everything to me.

* We are going from having too few dining room chairs to too many dining room chairs. I honestly don't know how these things happen, but at least I could serve the entire Brady Bunch in one sitting, as long as Alice helped out in the kitchen.

* I confused Jane Wyman (the delightfully pert and somewhat bitchy first wife of Ronald Reagan who famously observed that Reagan "was as boring as a box of rocks, as elusive as a ghost") with Jane Wyatt (the bland mother on "Father Knows Best"), both of whom are presumably dead. I know for sure that Jane Wyatt is, because I hadn't thought of either of them for a long time until I saw her obituary.

That's all for now. Please carry on.

Halloween is Coming!!!

Dress up your dogs!!!



And get our your Manequins!!!

The Trials of a Receptionist

As part of my responsibilities at Today's World Magazine, I answer the reception line for the office. I took this responsibility upon myself for, as Director of Fashion and Housekeeping, I often encountered exasperated people on my personal extension who rang through after getting stuck in phonetree hell, and I thought it just be easier for me to answer the phone myself.

I actually like it. It's a nice break to talk to people instead of just reading emails all day long, and you find out the most interesting things about the company when you answer the phone.

Of course, I get my fair share of weirdos: People who think we are totally different fashion magazine altogether, and are calling up demanding free Chanel. (Hint: There is no free Chanel) but every once in a while something rises to the top of Mount Weirdo, and I am here for you, dear readers, to relate this sort of thing.

Like yesterday: There I was, sitting at my stylish desk, viewing some swatches and sipping Cristal out of a lovely Schott Sweizel flute, when the touchtone rang.

"Good Afternoon, Today's World Magazine, Catalina Speaking" I said, in my best office tone, and using standard english.

"I need to speak to (Today's world Publisher)"

"Our publisher is located in our San Francisco office. Do you have the telephone number there?" I replied.

"I don't have time to go calling around the country." he replied

"Well, in that case I'd be pleased to take a message for you. May I have your name?" I asked, my sterling silver pen poised above a pink "While You Were Out" pad.

"Jimmy"

"And the last name?"

"Just Jimmy"

"Company?"

"Look, I don't have time for an interrogation. I don't know what's wrong with this country, but ever since 9-11 everybody wants to know everything. I don't have time for this"

"Well, Jimmy" I replied, "I've personally been working in offices since long before 911. Back when I started, there was a big ashtray on the desk where the computer is now. And even back then, it was customary to ask what company a person represents"

"Okay, Okay, Okay" he replied, somewhat frantically, obviously sensing the iron fist beneath the velvet glove "I can tell you're one of the good guys. It's just that I think that public companies just don't appreciate the average guy anymore...." and then launched into a seven minute tirade about "American Business"

I let it run its course - really, that's the only thing you can do with people like that. If you hang up, they'll only call back, and the Cristal was getting flat. When he was done, I murmered the standard spiel about how I agreed with him, what an insightful thing to say, etc, and asked for his phone number.

A quick Google search revealed that - as I suspected - "Jimmy" represented an organization that Today's World would have absolutely NO INTEREST in, so I discarded the message. Of course, there's always the chance that he may call back, but at least I have performed my duty as a gatekeeper. And it's given me something to write about today, so I guess it was all worth the effort.

Confessions of a Random Housekeeper

I have to admit it - to come out of the closet, so to speak - and admit the obvious: I am a random housekeeper.

I've tried to kid myself. To imagine myself a Bree Van de Kamp, but I know deep in my heart that I am more of an Erma Bombeck. I just can't get than enthused about dumping the garbage or dusting the outlets.

The Colonel - now there's a housekeeper for you, although his habbits show a strong railroad influence. Going to bed in a "Colonel-Made" bed is like going to bed in an old-fashioned Pullman Car's bedroom, right down to the precisely folded and tucked sheets and blankets, and crisp double pillows. The Greek also shows these traits, although she leans slightly more towards the "let's put a plastic liner on everything" school of thought.

Prior to meeting the Colonel, I only made the bed when company was coming over, and I cleaned the house fairly thoroughly every Saturday morning. He poo-pooed this as woefully inadequate and started a strict regime of making the bed everyday (whether I was still in it or not) and - to my mind, at least - rather obsessive vacumming. And I'm not lying when I say that I don't think our dryer has ever really cooled down.

That's why it was a Godsend for me to find Peg Bracken.

Peg Bracken is best known as the author of the iconic Eames era classic "The I Hate To Cook Book" but she also wrote a classic called the "I Hate to Housekeep Book", which give reassurance to those of us she calls "Random Housekeepers" that we are indeed valuable people who contribute to society, and doubtless have higher thoughts than an urgent need to alphabetize the spice rack.

I know that there are those among you, dear readers, who are similarly random - eratic, even - housekeepers, and I can only hope that this book will be as much of a blessing to you as it has been to me.

Finally, it should be noted - lest you lose heart - that being a random housekeeper does in no way affect your standing as a person of taste and breeding. Indeed, this may even further cement your value as an arbiter of style and international trendsetter. Let the others detail the grout with bleach pencils and wash everything before putting it in the dishwasher. We are made for the finer things and loftier purposes.

A new level of glamour.....

I usually turn my nose up at the idea of a TV in the living room. However, there are some TV's that simply demand to be placed in a position of honor in one's home.

One of those TVs is the Sylvania Silouette (Blogger, so some Blogger-ish reason, is having problems showing images. If you can't see the Sylvania, just click on the image box, and it should take you to a new page)

It's a New Day for Ironing!!!!

Last night I was visiting Members of the Beacon Hill Architectural and Academic communities (Civic Duty, Noblesse Oblige, etc) and took them to task about their wonderful, wonderful ironing machine that they were using as a cat food stand in their basement.

Those of you who know those to whom I am refering to are doubtless incredulous, and asking yourself the question "What? They Iron?"

Well, no. And that's why it was being used as a cat food stand. That would be degrading enough for the poor ironing machine, but the real cincher is that it is a Maytag - made in Newton, Iowa, where The Professor hails from!

They had never used it (It came with the house) So we dusted it off, and fired it up, and lo and behold, it still worked!!!! So after nagging and pleading, and even offering my body for ravage, they acquiesed, and now it is OURS!!!!

Ladies and Gentlemen, We bring you the Maytag Ironing Machine!!!

Republicans: Are they Fascists or Retards?

I try (really I do) to not get too political on TGTC, if only because I can't imagine that any conservatives would read it (they're generally quite vulgar, after all) and I don't want to preach to the choir.

But let me just say this:

I have come to the conclusion that anyone who would still vote Republican is either actively against everything this country supposedly stands for, or is mentally retarded.

I don't say that lightly, and I don't mean to insult retarded people. But how many times do you have to be lied to and condescended to before you figure it out? Unless you have liquid assets of more than one million dollars and don't work for a living, the Republicans are actively working against your best interest.

Not understanding that goes beyond naivette, and crosses into what I have to consider mental retardation.

So that's all i'm going to say on the matter, and I promise you some fabulous postings about gracious living in the very near future that are sure to make up for you sitting through that.

But really. Who can still call themselves a Republican?

If Lou Filbert could figure it out....

Much has been written about the whole Mark Foley/Republican Perversion thing (but few as succinct and right on point as what Dan Savage had to say) but let me just say this.

When I was in High School, I did a lot of community theatre. I wasn't a chorus boy, but strictly a technician. One of those geeky stagecrew types.

Anyway, there was a production of the musical "Mame", and while working on it, I attracted the attention of a much older man (not as old as Mark Foley, but way too old for this to be anything but creepy) Let's call him Mr. X. Mr. X kept making off-color comments and was a tad too gropey for even MY taste.

The woman playing the title role was a great old gal named Lou Filbert. Together with her husband, they had founded the community theatre, and were known for their fabulous parties at their amazing 50's house up in the hills. Lou wasn't just some housewife with aspirations: She really could sing, and she really could act, and she'd been around the block enough times to know how things were. I had known her and her husband all my life, as they were friends of my parents, and she had been my sister's brownie leader.

Anyway, one day after rehearsal, Lou called me aside. Drawing a huge drag on what was probably her ten thousandth cigarette that day, she looked me straight in the eye and said "So, is Mr. X bothering you?"

"Huh?" I replied (No one ever said I was verbose)

"Come on" she replied "I may be old but my eyes are still good. I know what that guy's doing. If you want me to take care of it, I will. If not...." she trailed off. (Lou had my number before I did)

Well, the truth was, he WAS creeping me out. And I didn't know what to do about it. So I told her.

I don't know what Lou did, but Mr. X never bugged me again. No big drama, no scandal, not even any animosity from Mr. X. Just no troubles.

My point is this: Lou didn't make up bullshit excuses about "telling her supervisor", She didn't pass the buck. She just asked me if it was a problem for me, and when it was, she took care of it.

Lou is long gone to her final reward, but I thought of her when this whole mess broke open. If any of these Congressmen had been half the man that Lou was (and, it should be mentioned, Lou was a Republican) the GOP wouldn't be in this particular mess they are in. Not only are the dishonest, they're cowards

RIP Lou.

A Jet Screamer Break!

Or, as the kids say these days "Eep Opp Ork Ah Ah"

The Three Little Bops

Quite Simply, the best cartoon ever.