I’m not ready. But I kind of have to be. Until very recently, the milestone I’m approaching — that would be turning 50 in almost exactly 14 months — has mostly been a source of comedy for me. It’s easy to joke about the difference in ages between me and pretty much all of my… Read More gray.
I’ve never been to Rhode Island. I now have a reason to go. Mrs. Crappy has a subscription to Cook’s Country magazine and we received a new issue last week. The magazine publishes an index of sorts on back cover, and as soon as I looked at the new one, I saw something I knew… Read More dy-no-mite.
I should know better than to stroll through the produce section of Whole Foods A) while I’m hungry and B) just two days after I get paid. But in our most recent trip, it worked out well. Because there it was, a display of good-sized, bright green artichokes. Three chokes for five bucks. And after… Read More choked.
My brain has been occupied by two things today. 1) A text conversation with Mrs. Crappy that ended with us concluding that a Florida trip — our first financially feasible one in years — is in order later this year. E: How do we go about inviting ourselves to Naples this summer? 2) Another text… Read More torn.
It’s winter. And we all need help finding some warmth, some color and some spice. Me? I need some pho. Beef broth, simmered all day. A mound of rice noodles. Onions and scallions. Thin slices of beef that cook in the broth when that big bowl of deliciousness is carried out to your table. And… Read More pho down.
I’m not sure that John Calipari’s system at Kentucky — grabbing a bunch of talented one-and-done freshmen in hopes that he can cobble together a solid team in time for a March run — is good for college basketball. And I know for certain that it wasn’t good for nearly every single person who entered… Read More blue. grass. bock. town.
Uncle Crappy 