Perfect Little Hamburgers

I found this "recipe" on Facebook, posted by the NY Times (link at the end, take a look).  The post consists of tips for making the "perfect burger."  They included tips for both "Tavern"-style burgers and "Diner"-style burgers.  I haven't tried the Tavern-style yet, but the little diner-style is the BEST burger I've ever made at home ( I prefer thin). I adapted their technique to suit my taste in some minor ways, but it is essentially the same as they posted.  This is very much like the burger you'd have gotten at a truck-stop cafe in the 1950s, if you remember those. I love them.

80/20 Coarse Ground Chuck  (3 oz each burger)

Soft Potato Buns

Condiments.

·       Put cast iron griddle over medium fire.

·       After pre-heating for a few minutes, lightly butter and griddle each bun until golden brown.

·       Do not over-handle the meat.  As gently as possible, prepare each burger into a piece of meat of about 3 oz – about like a big meatball.  Do not compress.

·       Increase fire to med-hi.  Add a bit of oil to the griddle.  Place a meatball on the griddle and smash it down thin to about 1 inch thick very quickly with a solid spatula.  Aggressively salt and pepper the patty.  Fry for 90 seconds, then flip and finish for 90 more seconds. Salt and pepper again once flipped.  This will be a med-well patty.  If medium is preferred, cook only 1 min once flipped.  This burger will be crispy around the edges, but juicy in the middle. Do NOT EVER press on the burger while it is cooking!

·       If cheese is desired, place cheese slice on burger for the last 45-50 seconds.

·       Serve with condiments of choice.  I prefer mustard, onion and dill pickle!

You may also form the patty very quickly with your hands before putting it on the griddle, but compress the meat as little as possible (don't "work" the meat, just form it enough that it holds together).  If you make the patty larger (up to about ¼ lb), just increase the cooking time slightly. No more than 80% lean meat is important - leaner beef contributes to a dryer, denser less-flavorful burger. I've made these with chili-grind, and I've made them with regular supermarket-grind beef - both were great.  Just don't use leaner beef (85% would probably be OK, but nothing more).

I add nothing to the meat except the salt and pepper.  I've been throwing a slice of onion on the griddle while the burger fries also - so by the time the meat is done, I've got a semi-grilled onion slice.

I'm adding the LINK from the Times -- there is a lot of great information in it! 

A Nation in Decline?

The election is over, the people have spoken. It is time to move on. At each election, the losing side always screams "get rid of the electoral college," blah blah blah. That system was put in place for a reason, I suggest you learn why before you throw it out. Then if you still don't like it, work to change it; but you may find that our founding fathers weren't that dumb.

It's not about politics, it's about character. In my opinion, Donald Trump was never (and will never be) fit or qualified for the office he now will hold. The words sleaze, immoral and scumbag come to mind. He never engages his brain before he runs his mouth. He is a bully. Even though I have serious concerns about the ability of the American people to intelligently govern themselves, to make even adequate choices, this election is a "done-deal" and we must move on.

Do I think the voters have been conned? Yes. But remember that Trump is simply a reflection of what the people of this country are already thinking, (and at least in some cases) in all their narrow-minded ugliness. We had thought things, person to person, were not how they used to be - that things were better. We have discovered that isn't the case. Our real problem is how do we deal with that?

I wonder how I can ever see "America" in the same way again. This nation is not what I thought it was and that is depressing, even heartbreaking. But my hope is that what we've apparently "lost" is still within us and we discover and reaffirm it again after this temporary flirtation with the less-than-admirable side of our very-human nature. Some day, perhaps we will finally learn that fear of the "other" is an irrational thing. Some day, maybe we'll recognize that our nation's founding principles apply to all.

The secondary problem is that our government no longer works - and it won't until both sides work together. I see no evidence that is about to happen and even less likelihood with this particular electee. The GOP has the reins for the next couple of years. Let's see if they can solve some of our problems. Then we get another do-over. That's how it works. All the moaning and gnashing of teeth solves nothing. And although I remain highly doubtful, if their "plans" work, what have we lost?

"Make America great again" has different meanings to different people. For me, it means a return to the values of honesty, integrity, honor, duty, service, and diligence (work ethic). These are values that made us leaders, made us great. I don't see how this man can lead us back to them, as I don't see that he shares them. There are many people in America today that I love, that I don't think he cares about.  I will give him the opportunity to surprise me, mainly because we don't have a choice about that now; but sometimes a man can rise to a challenge.  Sometimes, men become what you expect of them.  Hope.

Election 2016: A critical choice is at hand.

Please think very carefully about your vote in a few weeks.  If you vote for anyone that is not Clinton or Trump, you will be throwing your vote away and helping one of the other candidates win.  That is not scare tactics; that is practical reality.  If you feel as I do, that neither candidate is totally (or at all) acceptable, then the most good you can do given the choices we’ve been given is to vote against the candidate that you don’t want most.  Vote for the lesser evil.

Please remember how this happened this time.  Then get out there next time and work for good candidates from the beginning.  There’s really nothing we can do this time unless the GOP dumps Trump before the election.  I can’t imagine that will happen.  They just won’t do that.

But I want you to think about this: How do you suppose Trump’s daughter feels about the revelations this past few days in the news. Behind the scenes, where the public cannot see her, in her heart, what impact has this had on her? Locker room or not, what kind of man says something like that about his daughter?  Ever?  I don’t know any good man who would ever speak that kind of garbage anywhere. The kind of person who says things like that is nothing more than ignorant trash.

Fathers, who do you think Trump was talking about when he spoke of women and how he prefers to “handle” them?  He was talking about all women – your daughters, your wives, your friends and your loved ones.  What would you do if you heard someone speak of your daughter that way?  Vote for them?

The president represents all of us as the “face” of the United States around the world. How could you possibly consider this person as a leader of the free world? How could we be so ignorant? What would it say about us if we had such a man representing us around the world. These things do matter - despite what his remaining right-wing supporters and all the neo-Nazis would have you believe.  

Where Trump belongs is in some deep, dark basement where no one would ever have to hear his vile voice again (or in that same prison he threatens to put Hilary in...).

I also flatly reject the assertion that Hilary Clinton is just as bad. She has a nearly forty year record of working for the American people.* Trump has never worked for anyone but himself, and that not honestly, but at the expense of others.  We have no reason to believe he will be any different as president and you're a fool if you think that doesn't matter.

*Just so you know, I am a fiscal conservative in the traditional sense and would not vote for Clinton if I had a good choice otherwise.  But she is NOT evil incarnate.  Those of you that think so are wrong. Conservative America, Donald Trump does not in any way share the ideals and values you hold most dear; you are being played.

There are parallels – similar political rhetoric and candidates – in the history of the past one-hundred years.  Because people did nothing to stop it when they might have, because the idea of a resurgent nation was attractive to them, because they gave in to ignorant and unthinking hate-rhetoric and hatred of those that weren’t much different than themselves, the entire world was plunged into evil chaos that took millions of lives and 6 + years to obliterate, not to mention the millions of innocent lives murdered during those years.  If you don’t think that could happen again, you’re wrong.  That all started a little at a time, because a nation was fed up with a status quo. I wouldn't want to see anything like that happen in my country, even to some lesser degree.

The hour is late and ignorance, irrational hatred and bigotry are out of the closet, even valued.  It is time for intelligence and wiser people to speak up – and act.  

In Memory of Tom Mix

Tom Mix, cowboy star

Back in the 1920s and 1930s, we didn’t have John Wayne.  The Duke was getting his start in one or two big screen flicks, like “The Big Trail,” but for the most part his 30s decade was filled with making Saturday afternoon “oaters.” 

No, in the early days, we had Tom Mix!   He was a big, tall handsome man with some real cowboy-ing background, a favorite with the ladies of his time and he had a smart horse (“Tony”) who took every opportunity to upstage him. He was made even taller by that trademark-tall white Stetson hat. He made over 370 (mostly silent) westerns.  You can still see some of them on the streaming services - for example, "Just Tony" from 1922, which mostly stars the horse with Tom as pretty much the "sidekick." 

By the late 30s, though, the big star was approaching 60 years old and the parts were not many in coming.  By 1940, he hadn’t been very successful in any kind of a career revival, although he was still working on that.  He performed in “circuses,” even had his own.  But in the depression years, none of those did very well.  Even Barnum & Bailey and Ringling Bros shut down for a time.  The Tom Mix circus was no exception and closed in ’38.

Tom Mix, the great cowboy star who helped bury the REAL Wyatt Earp, counted him as a friend and wept at his funeral, was living in reduced circumstances by 1940.  He wasn’t forgotten and although his star was fading, he still drew big crowds at the local events he attended; America still loved him. He didn’t live in big mansions in the Hollywood Hills anymore – but he did have a couple of nice ranches with some acreage in Los Angeles and near Phoenix (his ranch house near Phoenix is now the home of a good Mexican restaurant – one of the locations of Los Dos Molinos).

Perhaps his favorite possession was his beautiful butter-yellow 1937 Cord 812 Phaeton (although he also owned a 1927 Rolls-Royce Phantom I Roadster at the time of his death).  Not all the 812s had the supercharged Lycoming V-8 engine – but his did.  Not many were ever built and by the time of Mix’s death the company was out of business. But Tom Mix kept his, and he liked to drive it fast on his frequent journeys around the west.  If you look closely at the photo, you can see the tooled leather rear-fender guards - indicating perhaps that many of the roads he drove were gravel in those days.

Tom Mix's 1937 supercharged Cord 812 Phaeton

On the morning of October 12, 1940, he started out from Tucson on the 2nd leg of a journey from Las Cruces back to California for meetings about starring in some more films; he was headed to Florence that day for a Grandson's christening. He knew lots of people in the area, was friendly to almost everyone he met.

His first stop that morning was north of town at Oracle Junction (there was no I-10 in 1940).  Mix took the “back road” route that today starts as Oracle Rd in Tucson, and then splits off to Florence, Arizona and into Phoenix from the southeast.

From Oracle Junction to Florence, that road wasn’t paved – it was a main route but was graded-gravel according to the 1940 Arizona Highway Department map.  But Florence is on that road, so he went that way instead of a more direct route.  He also met a man (his friend Bud White) at Oracle Junction when he stopped at a roadhouse there, drank some whiskey and played some cards with his friend.  A couple of Florence boys had been there overnight after a dance; one of them at least knew him, and they were all three excited to see the “big star.”  After talking with them for a few moments, Mix left and the boys decided to follow him down the road toward Florence in their "old Plymouth."  But they couldn’t keep up with the powerful Cord and until the wreck he stayed quite some distance ahead of them.

About 18 miles south of Florence, he came up on a work site where WPA workers were in the process of building a bridge over what is now (sadly) known as Tom Mix Wash.  News reports said those construction workers were first on the scene, but the boys who were there said that was not true, as it was Sunday and in 1940 on Sunday, road workers were at home with their families, not building bridges over dry Arizona washes. 

The boys came up on the crash right after it happened, before the dust even settled.  They said that the wheels of the Cord were still turning when they approached. Mix had swerved and gone off the road into the wash where the motorcar turned over.  He'd had two aluminum suitcases in the back of the open car, and one of those (which was heavily loaded) flew forward or perhaps fell on his head as the car rolled and broke his neck.  That suitcase is still in a museum, complete with the dent left by the actor’s head.

Mix was certainly speeding - but speeding on that road may not be the equivalent of what we think of as speeding today.  It was a graded road.  Some have reported that the Cord approached at 80 mph.  But no one was there; no one except those boys, who were way behind him, so there is no way to know for sure exactly what his speed really was at that moment.  I suspect it was much lower than 80 mph. When the car was recovered there was little visible damage; had he really been doing 80, the damage would have been much more visible.  Had the heavy case not broken his neck, that wreck might even have been survivable, since the reports indicated that he was still with the car, not thrown off a couple of hundred feet as you might expect had he really been going as fast as some said. I am certain it had no seat belts -- cars just didn't in those years.

The boys said he was already dead when they got there – one of them checked for his pulse and didn’t find one.  It was several hours before the authorities got out to the crash scene.  The witnesses stated the wreck happened in the morning, but it was midafternoon before anyone else got there.  Mix’s body was taken to Florence that afternoon and the Cord was also towed into town. Because of the delay, most reporters wrote that the wreck happened in the afternoon. The witnesses disputed that.

The coroner did an autopsy and discovered the broken neck and reported it as the cause of death and his body was then prepared for burial by a Florence funeral home. His fifth wife Mabel had been notified and she came in a friend's private plane from Los Angeles to take his body home.  He had a funeral in Los Angeles fit for a king, with thousands of mourners and was buried at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Glendale, California, wearing his platinum and diamond-encrusted cowboy belt buckle.

Where Tom died.

Tom Mix left behind a legion of movie fans and friends, a wife, four ex-wives (reportedly), two daughters and Tony the devilish horse. He had disowned the exes and one of his daughters and left his somewhat modest estate to his wife and his daughter Thomasina. Tony the wonder horse had already lived long – and he died of old age two years later to the day (from Mix's death). 

Tom's Rolls Royce was obtained by Warner Brothers after his death and it appeared in several movies as the years passed.  Robert Redford drove it in one of his films. The damaged Cord passed through several owners and was finally purchased by someone who restored it to mint-condition and as exactly as possible to how Mix had it set up, lamps and all (see photo).  It’s also still out there – it was auctioned a few years back and I haven’t been able to find out where it is now.  That might mean a private collector now owns it.   

You can still see some of the places where he lived over in Los Angeles, as well as that Mexican restaurant bungalow in South Phoenix and you can still see many of his movies. A monument was placed in a small roadside park on that "still a back-road" desert highway – SR79, just a couple of hundred feet from the spot where the movie cowboy went off the road into the wash.  It is paved now and a decent road. They dedicated that monument in 1947 and Gene Autry was there and sang a lonesome cowboy song. Vandals and thieves deface the memorial every once in a while, so it doesn't look now like it originally did.

I go by there every chance I get and I almost always stop.  The marker commemorates a man who added countless hours of excitement to the Saturday afternoons of American boys and girls all across the country.  I remember that silent-film cowboy in the tall white hat (even though his movies were really before "my time.")  I always will.  I might go watch one of them right now.

4th of July, 2016: The American Creed

Why is it that we don’t stand up when we see some among us who place conditions on our rights – when they belong to others who are different from us?  Wasn’t that the whole point, from the very beginning?  What is it that blinds us?

True Americans value their personal freedom, but with absolute remembrance that to our founding fathers and mothers, freedom did not extend as much to the individual – it was freedom of the people, of the nation as a whole.

True Americans believe in personal responsibility.  Our creed places value on self-sufficiency.

True Americans are reliable, and true to our word.

True Americans believe in charity and taking care of others.  But that does not mean we want the government to do it for us.

True Americans root for the underdog.

True Americans hate losing – and losers.

True Americans believe that justice is more important than winning.

No matter our spiritual beliefs, we believe in the Golden Rule.

Americans are a fighting people.  If you abuse us – you can expect to reap the whirlwind.  Justice will come for you.

True Americans believe in freedom of religion as well as freedom FROM religion.  America may be a nation of believers – but there are many beliefs.

True Americans value remembrance of our past, our people and our history. 

We place a high priority on honor.

True Americans value hard work and a job well-done.  We prize competence.

True Americans want to solve a problem at its root – not address it piecemeal from the tips of its branches.

We prize action, more than rhetoric.

True Americans have a strong belief in equality, of the dignity and worth of each person.  Not just Americans, but ALL people.  All of us - not just the ones who are like us.

The American creed “is a union of faith and freedom [wherein] faith elevates freedom and freedom tempers faith.”

We revere our elders.

True Americans hate a liar.

True Americans believe in right and in dealing from a position of power.

We believe that as humans we possess inalienable rights – we don’t need to wait for someone to give them to us.  We were endowed with them; they are inherent within us. 

It should be the government’s sole job to secure those rights.

We believe these rights have been endowed to the least of us, to the weakest among us. 

We do not believe that might makes right.

We believe in live and let live.

True Americans believe that freedom is our right – but that it is also our duty to secure that right, even if it means our death.

These tenets are my own opinions and beliefs, but some of the thoughts here were inspired by the writings of David Gelernter, David Azzerad, PhD and Forrest Church.

Riding in cars with dogs

On this day in 1965, I woke up in a motel in Lead, SD.  I was 11 years old. We were driving from Phoenix to Dollar Bay, a little town near Houghton, MI, where my Dad operated a Standard Oil gas station. 

The night before, on the last miles into Deadwood from Wyoming, there had been hundreds of deer grazing in the semi-darkness along the highway.  I had never seen so many.  On this day, we continued toward Minnesota, across the beautiful state of South Dakota (Not being sarcastic, I love the Great Plains).  I remember we drove through Belle Fourche and across what is now US 212 and ended the day in St Cloud, MN. 

Not Tootles, but looks like Tootles

The most memorable event of the day was our stop at the bank of the Missouri River, just west of Gettysburg.  We all piled out and down to the river, including our dog Tootles.  Tootles gloried in the momentary freedom – she was definitely a road-tripper, even had her own “seat” in that big ’56 Chrysler Windsor on top of a square suitcase placed on the back seat, which raised her up high enough that she could survey the passing scenery to her satisfaction. 

But like any dog, she loved to romp and run if she could and check things (everything) out at any stop we made.  When it came time to get back in the car and continue on, we discovered that Tootles had found something extremely dead along the riverbank and rolled in it completely.  Whatever it was, it was so far gone it was emulsified. Her new “cologne” would have given new meaning to the term “toilet water.”  The fragrance was intense, overwhelming and extremely unpleasant.  “Putrid” would be an accurate descriptor. And nothing took it off. 

We stopped at a filling station in Gettysburg, and Dad and Vera leashed the dog to the hydraulic lift in the service bay (so she couldn’t flee the hose), and they washed her with every anti-stink remedy known to man and woman-kind.  Soap, vinegar, milk, tomato juice. You name it, they tried it.  Maybe even pine-sol, I don’t know. To no avail; the pooch still stunk.  The only one who wasn’t offended by the smell was the dog herself, who seemed to think the odor was attractive.

That fragrance didn’t go away for at least a couple of weeks, and it made the last day and a half of our journey most memorable (It had been fun up to that point).  I don’t remember at all, but I’d bet a week’s pay we drove with the windows all down from that point on.

This dog was also a dedicated drunk, but that is another story.

Memorial Day, 2016

I was thinking of all the people, friends or relations, who have influenced my life, touched me in some way, even if only briefly for some, but who have “shuffled off this mortal coil.” We are a product of all we have done, all those we have known. When I think of all who have gone, it makes me appreciate all the more those I still have.

In a sense, we have all of those we’ve lost as well; they live in our memories and we should celebrate that. I have been richer because all of these people were a part of my life – their names are all in my “book.”

In loving memory...

Steven Scott Schaller
Tommy
Old Pete
Old Mr. Abbott
Hugh Kerns
Maybelle Kerns
Ernie Mills
Walter Fink
Retha Harris Fink
Guernsey Pogue
Amelia Cowdrey
Grandma Hicks (Pogue)
John Calvin Disharoon
Dora Mills
Dewey Hannum
Nellie Williams
William “Buss” Pickett
Don Moore
LaVera Sills
Charlie Merritt
Louis W. Schaller
Mahlon Schaller
Doyle I. Pruitt
Lula Belle Pruitt
Lloyd Lanham
Lamar Beaver
Mary Jane Beaver
Robert W. Schaller
John R. Schaller
Mae Whitmore
Nelson Pruitt
Jean Pruitt
Jane Pickett
Mike Pickett
Alice Bell
Donald F. Gillespie
Phyllis Gillespie
Vivian
Sharon Houle
David H. Melian
Ernie Tim Mills
Jeneva Lorene Schaller
Ron Delong
Octavia Den Beste
David Rogers
Ron Abbot

Although I have tried to remember them all, I'm sure there are some I've forgotten at this moment.

“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.
I am haunted by waters.”

― Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It and Other Stories