soft-shell crab roll


Since Tessa are in that indefinite parcel of time called “your child-bearing years,” we’ve had to be careful about sushi, because apparently there’s all sorts of mercury that will give your baby three heads and gecko-like scales. The FDA put out a notice and even a list of all the different mercury levels in your favorite seafood, but the whole thing depresses my lovely wife to no end. Not only is it one more goddamn thing to worry about, but she actually loves sushi and it means effectively giving it up until the year 2014.

While salmon has very little mercury, it has plenty of PCBs – basically the green sludge that oozes out the back of factories in Elizabeth, NJ, finding its toxic path of least resistance to the nearest river. The government is supposed to protect us from this shit, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the Bush Administration wanted to re-classify dioxin poison as a dessert topping.

Sure, voyagers on cross-country plane trips can look out the window and see vast stretches of unspoiled Western terrain, but have you ever taken the PATH train to Newark? It is like the Disney ride through Bubbling Purple Horrorville. Gurgling streams of steaming, rust-colored death syrup – all clawing its way into your womb to do terrible things to your babies.

During history class, I used to look at historical characters from the Dark Ages with pity

0 thoughts on “soft-shell crab roll

  1. Piglet

    Oh my! “The Disney ride through Bubbling Purple Horrorville”–Ian, you are at your literary best when you’re furious. But you probably knew that.
    You need a weekly newspaper column. You really do.

  2. Greg

    You could call it “Wednesday’s Child” in blatant imitation of the one that guy at Carolina wrote in the DTH while we were there…

  3. Greg

    I’m guessing my last comment (though incredibly funny to me for about 10 seconds, until right after I hit the Post button) qualifies as exactly the type of conversation that was the subject of yesterday’s blog. Welcome to the club, Ian, we’re all a bunch of windbag assholes that don’t know when to shut up. I’ll teach you the nifty secret handshake at the next meeting…

  4. Greg

    Since I’m being a windbag asshole, here’s something completely unrelated that you might enjoy…
    I’ve been working for the last couple of weeks with a guy that played basketball (well, rode the bench) for Dook. He graduated in ’90. Amongst our other conversation topics (“How’s the weather up there?”, “What size shoe do you wear?”, “Is K really an asshole?” – you know, the standards,) I asked what he thought of Chrissy Laettner. His initial response was something to the effect of: “His nickname to the rest of the team was ‘Asshole.'”
    He added that CL was such a jerk to his roommate one year that the following year Coach K felt the need to give the guy a single room (virtually inprecedented on the team) as compensation for the awful experience the prior year with CL.
    I always thought (from a distance and with no real evidence) he was an ass, but it’s great hearing confirmation from such a direct source. He did say that CL was tough on everyone, himself included, and that the result of his self-criticism was that he worked incredibly hard, the primary secret to his success.
    Just thought I’d share…


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