A New Kinda Beans and The Greatest Apple Ever

I bought some new kinda beans. They were in a bin where you write down the number of the kinda beans you got, but I forgot the name of the beans. They, as you can see, are kind of a pale green and have kind of a pale, bean flavor. I am happy to make the acquaintance of these new beans.

In other news, I was up in Fremont last Monday to do some judging of technology presentations, and as I was walking back to the bus stop, I pulled out of my bag, possibly the greatest apple ever. As you know, I've had a very logical terror of fruit for the last month or so, but my return to fruit was a very, very pleasant one. I was walking through one of those weird industrial park-things that used to be a very rural part of Fremont, but now has all these odd, sort of, big (but not tall) company buildings. What is this kind of landscape called, office park? Anyway, there's lots of mown grass and trees that have the fall colors. And, I had that apple and a nice lawn and tree smelling breeze. It was great. I think it was a gala, but it may have been a fuji. I could not identify it because it was blowing away my logic and abilities with it's greatness. Plus, I cannot name the source from which it came.

That's all I got to say, I think. New kinda beans, great apple.

Please enjoy the rest of your day.

A Little Room For Me

Look, everybody. I made myself a little room out of a closet. Now I sleep in a room, in a bed. Just like you.

All This Good News

All this good news started a month or several weeks ago when I started thinking about getting old and not being able to work anymore. I figured out that if I put $40 away each week, I would have $360,000 by the time I retired. I even put $40 into a book, all hidden-like. I walked around fairly pleased for a week or so, then redid the calculations.

I've also been walking around under the impression that all of this good news on my horizon is either going to be good news or nothing. But that's false. I have, let's say, four things out there, waiting, and to be honest, at least two of them are really things, that if they don't work out, they will make things worse for me. Things will be, let's say, taken away. And I do not have that much to give.

Still, no news is good news, right? And good news is definitely good news. And all news is news, so what am I complaining about? No sleep because there's a dog that runs around all over my roof at night? Who's going to believe that?

No fruit yet: still terrified.

Please enjoy the rest of your day.

Good News or Wait a Minute, Plus, Odd Feelings

I've been getting all sorts of weird, good news. It's mind blowing, how many good things are going to happen to me. I say going to happen because so far, out of these zillions of good news tidbits I've been receiving, none of them can, or have yet to be verified. So, let's say might happen. I am a pessimist by nature/optimist depending on what day it is. Mostly I am a pessimist. But it's weird when it seems like all good news, all piled up in a good looking pile. You start thinking, well, what can you do, good things are going to happen whether you like it or not.

For example, I thought I was just burning the beans. I could smell them, deliciously, where I am, and that usually means they are burning in the kitchen. Turns out, they were cooked to perfection and perfectly content to just be cooked and not smoking and blackening. Something, someone has got it out for me in some good way, it seems, and it's not just the beans.

That makes you nervous. And then, brace yourself, it turns out that all the things you've been hearing about could happen, but have not, and will not until there is some sort of weird waiting period. In the meantime, you can wait for emails to be returned, applications to sit around, and for yourself to get it in gear to really make some stuff happen (the hardest of all if you're drained of confidence).

So, I wait, somewhat anxiously. But not so bad. One thing about being a pessimist is that you are trained to not get your hopes up. And, you tell yourself, good stuff just comes with responsibilities that are hard to cope with and besides, you get enough good stuff and you lose your complaint privileges.



And, now, on to fruit. It started to build up, my suspicions about fruit. I've told you about mangos that I suspected had a center that was filled with bees, and it turned out I was wrong. But I know that those suspicions were put in my head for some real reason, fruit is just too good for it to not have some weird, ulterior motive. The last thing I ate was a persimmon that I was sure was rigged to blow. So, for awhile, I'm off the stuff completely.

Please enjoy the rest of your day.

Not My Pineapple

This is not my pineapple. It is a stunt pineapple owned by Java Supreme. This pineapple is a beaut', and I couldn't let it be eaten without taking a picture of it.

Look, there's Ed from Java Supreme behind me.


Thanks, Ed!

Ray Halliday Provides Fruit to Friends!

My friends, as you know, are terrific. I got to eat with them last night and they were all great. I was in charge of dessert and martinis. As you can guess, I picked fruit. I made fruits with whipped cream. It was good. I was worried, though. I wanted mangos and pineapple and bananas. But when I went to look, all I could find was some rock hard mangos, and then a couple of way-past-their prime mangos. So, the mangos were going to be iffy, I knew, and I had to prepare myself for the possibility of just serving my friends pineapples and bananas. This was fine, I told myself, they will still care for me, and it was and they did and they do.

As you can see, I've really got not too much to say that's interesting about my life except for the food I eat, and the tension and drama that surrounds it. Also, those way-past-their-prime mangos turned out to be way-past-their-prime avocados.

*sigh* I guess...

Ray Halliday: Soon to be Covered in Flies!

A mango of ridiculous juiceosity. Do I need to say more? Deliciousity as well. But, c'mon. You know how mangoes can get!

I tried washing off some at the sink, but I think I have been covered too thoroughly. It went down my hands, over my wrists, down my sleeves past my armpits. It reached down under my shirt and hit my shoulders, back, sides and stomach. Reached into my pants and went down into my underwear and my legs. I tried the sink with soap and water but I'll be damned if I'm taking an extra shower because of a mango. I run this world, fruit, not you!

I will let you know how things turn out. I predict flies.


Still, the stubborn price standoff with me and pineapple rages on. I have plans that call for the pineapple this weekend, so my hand may be forced. Who handles the economy? It's them who run the world, not me or fruit. We are all pawns.

Thank you for your time. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.

Heart-Shaped Blog, Plus Something Else If I Can Remember!

I am, at the moment, unremembering what else it was that I wanted to say.

But, I do remember the one thing I wanted to say about all the love that all the people showed me in the way of offering me money to send me to see my folks. That was super-nice of all of you and it warmed my heart. It was kind of embarrassing, too, a little. I want you to know, honestly, that that was not the response I was looking for. And I did send a nice letter to my folks quite similar to the one I put here last time, but without the money woes. I do not want them offering me money either. My point is that everybody I know is super-nice and I am lucky to know them. Thank you all.

Oh, here's the other thing. The pineapple picture from above is from weeks ago. I have not found a satisfactory pine' at a satisfactory price in a while. I have not given up hope.

I hope you all haven't either.

with love...


Now, please return to your day.

Another Film by Ray Halliday

This is just a rough draft. But you guys get the idea. It's about flowers.

Anyway, I have this letter to my parents that seems hard to write, so I thought I would write it privately here, and see what you guys thought of it before sending it out.

Dear Mom and Dad (that's what I call them)

I want you to understand something that has been on my mind for the last few years. I very much regret moving away from the two of you (and my sister, I forget her name at the moment). I did not think that moving so far away would have such bad consequences. Don't get me wrong, I've got a nice life out here in California and I would not want to trade it. But, I did not think I would be so stuck out here. I honestly thought I would have made enough money to take a trip out to see you at least once a year or something. I wish we could have known each other better and spent more time together. It would have been nice, I think, to really get to know each other as adults. I believe we would have had some nice times. I still keep my eyes peeled for ways to see you more and even possibly, at some point, move back out your way. Unfortunately, I do not feel that time is on our side. I regret that, too.

Anyway, I wanted to let you know.

yer son,

Ray


What do you guys think?


P.S.

I like pineapples, I think they are a good fruit.

This Blog May Be in Trouble!

I was at the grocery store yesterday and they had these teeny pineapples for $4.99!

$4.99!

Do pineapples have a season? Is the season over?

I am up in the arms.


Please enjoy the rest of your day.

Write-a-Thon, plus whatever happened to Jeff Dembowski?

Do you guys remember Jeff Dembowski? He was almost like a regular over at the tuna blog, but then he disappeared.

Jeff!


Jeff!


Nothing.


Today I am doing this Write-a-Thon thing, and I want you to pledge money. It is to help children write. You don't want to get in on that? The information is here: http://www.826valencia.org/news/007835

You can pledge online and everything. Just make sure you use my name, Ray Halliday. Pledge today, tomorrow. If you pledge, I will share with you everything I "produce" today, even if it is embarrassing. Maybe especially.

Let me know if you have any questions.

Sincerely,

Ray Halliday
(helpful author)

Ray Halliday: Enthusiasms

As most of you know, I have lost my enthusiasm for almost everything, and have a hard time doing or wanting to do much of anything. Not so with pineapple, mostly. As most of you know I am pretty much of a pineapple purist and find messing with it (grilling, juicing or putting it in drinks) somewhat disappointing.

Yesterday I went to see They Might Be Giants, who I love. I got to see my friend Dominic play in the opening band and I was amazed to see how well he projects his rock and roll attitude way, way out into the bleachers. It was neat to see! But I couldn't help, during the whole show, thinking about how I was pretty claustrophobic and far away. *sigh*

Still, I try and try. Today, it almost seems like summer in San Francisco. Amazing! You could smell grass and leaves on the morning air. So I am going to try and go to the library and then out to golden gate park to see the Impressionists. I hope they will wake me up a little.

Also, I put a bunch of vanilla yogurt over my pineapple this morning. It seems like a very "kid" breakfast to have. But it was so great that it made me wish it was tomorrow already. Plus, I am listening to Phil Ochs, and I'm finding it hard to break away to get my day started.

Who said I'm not enthusiastic about stuff?

A Film by Ray Halliday

Here's something I found. Dates (what are dates anyway? Are they always dried?) at least dried ones, come with a hole in them. Using my CSI skills I am going to say that that is because there used to be some sort of pit in there. Well, guess what you can do with that hole? Did you guess shove an almond in there? If so, you are right.

Why isn't this the biggest craze ever? And who wants to put up some seed money for the most million dollar idea ever?

This is a great film, but I'm not sure if it works. So far, for me, it hasn't. I will check back later and try and post it again. I think they may have to check it for obscenities.

Anyway, enjoy the rest of your day.

Ray Halliday: No Pineapple

Hey, everybody! I just got back. I bought some generic q-tips, and some dried fruit (not pineapple) and I was going to find a pineapple but they was all green. Really green and really large and I just didn't want to go through all that waiting. I have a mango that's really not ready to go until tomorrow. And I have a some bananas and I will have one in a minute. But it's just a day sort of devoid of interesting fruit stories. So, I thought I would show you what I might look like if I finally got that rhino horn I've always wanted.

Please enjoy the rest of your day.

Ray Halliday: Almost Forgot!

Here is the actual pineapple #11. The last one was number ten. I started eating this yesterday morning, and forgot I wanted to take its picture. Here is what it looks like with its bottom cut off. This pineapple, by the way, was almost past its prime when I bought it. Honestly, I am not sure how to tell what condition a pineapple is in. Some of them are kind of green, and that should tell you something. Some of them are sort of brown, over the limit brown. And some of them look like they're kind of moldy on the outside. These signals are telling me something. But most the time I am not at all sure what.

Ray Halliday: Heiny of a Piney!

I think this is P#11. I promise to eat it by cutting it and eating it. No juicing-wastefulness.











I've never had, or seen wild rice! It was ridiculous. I was terrified. Alone in my little apartment with weird, unrecognizable rice. I called the anti-terrorism squad who helped me identify it as okay, or Canadian rice. They thanked me for my continued patriotism and told me that I could not be too careful with an unfamiliar food. They told me to use less water next time.

47 years old. Where have I been? What have I been doing? The answer is nowhere and nothing. No experiences at all.

Wasted Pineapple

This is not the pineapple you think it is.









As usual, I thought I had a good idea. I like rum and I like my friends so I invited my friend Dani up for dinner and some rum drinks. I have a borrowed juicer and I knew a juice recipe that had all the things I think go great with rum: pineapple, lime and mint. Sounds great. Plus I had made some regular + sun-dried tomato pesto. I had mung-bean vermicelli, you know, that clear kind. I also had some plans to do with a pot of lima beans. It's great, even though I'd been on a big downer. The night, and the drinking was designed to pick me up. Pick us both up.

But, quite frankly, and I am admitting it to myself and to any others that care to listen. I do not like mint drinks. I tried to make this mint juice one time and I thought I just over-minted it. I think fresh mint can be kind of bitter if too much is used, and both the last time I tried it, and this time, when I totally cut the recipe past half, I got the bittery mint blues.

Which, I must tell you is a waste of a good pineapple. I enjoy a good juice now and then and the fun of a well-made juicer. But, watching pineapple go through it, all sticky and strange, the pulp all still full of juice, the beautiful fibery goodness of pineapple given up for the juices I could have anyway just by putting the delicious pineapple unjuiced in my mouth, is enough to send me to fruit-blues jail on the spot.

So, I was happy to have juiced and then almost immediately felt like a big juicy failure. Dani drinks because she knows I enjoy it. And the way I was enjoying it was dirtying up my drink with more and more rum to mask the failure my juice. Which, by the way, was meager in amount-ness. Another thing I don't like about juicing a pineapple, it's a big looking fruit, but yields a small amount of juice.

So, don't get me wrong, the food was delicious, the company great, although moods were both running a little bit dark, and this wasn't helped by the rum putting my buddy on the verge of a migraine. Sigh.

Luckily, we were sitting there talking and counting up our friends who are currently dying, when who should stop by but our wonderful neighbors across the hall. Two Chris's, married with a three year old Hazel, who I enjoy sharing my juice with. Hazel said the juice made her lip tingly. I had the same reaction.

The Chris's brought another bottle of rum. Darker and more delicious than the cheap stuff I had. Plus, they brought good cheer, wonderful conversation and our chirping the night away attracted Joel from down the hall. And then there was more merriment! At least I think there was. I remember the next day feeling kind of exhausted and out of sorts (still).

Ah, well. I am eating my pineapples intact from now on. Pineapple #9, I hardly knew ye, and forgot, even, to take your picture.

Ray Halliday: Forget About It

Look, bananas over mangoes. I do not know what I was talking about the other day. I was just having a crabby day at work. I do not want any of those things. I bought some of that Asian hot sauce like in the restaurants. As long as I have enough toilet paper to blow my nose, everything else does not matter.

Thank you, everybody, for the cards and letters. You all gave some great advice. Especially you, Bobby H. from Cub Scout Troop 113, a pony or a riding lawnmower sounds way better than a baby. And I must thoroughly agree with you, your baby brother does sound stinky.

P.S. Did I mention I ate a whole pot of chili on Friday?

Enjoy the rest of your weekend.

Ray Halliday: Grim Forecast

I have recently decided that I need a career change. But I am skill-less and have a feckless quality about me, feckless qualities, am basically feckless, a feck. I want to have a girlfriend, get married and have a baby. I am 47 years old.

I would like to have two forms of transportation. A Honda Civic DX hatchback from years gone by, and a Suzuki SV650. However, I cannot seem to pay my taxes, have unpaid bills from years and years ago, and, honestly, I have nowhere, really, to go.

I eat pretty right, as you know, and enjoy fruit.

I have dreams for the weekend including chili, pesto and saag dal. All of which I can make pretty good or well.

That is all. Please enjoy the rest of your weekend.

Li'l Feller

# 8.

I've always identified with Charlie Brown and that stupid tree. I think this pineapple will be just fine. It just needs a little love.

How Not to Eat a Pineapple

Beautiful pineapple #7.

This was still delicious, but I cannot recommend eating one this way. Best to skin it first. And that green top is not that tasty, it's kind of pokey.


Also, this morning, I had a mango that was so good, that I thought perhaps it was a trap, like a mango Trojan Horse. As I ate deeper into it, I thought perhaps there might be a bunch of bees in the middle, or a radioactive pit designed to, I don't know...somehow take me down, maybe take down the whole human race. It was that sweet, that perfectly ripe that had I eaten perhaps five minutes earlier or later, I wouldn't be writing this now. But it was so good, I didn't see it as just a fruit, but something more...something evil.


Also, I am looking for a replacement for almonds and raisins. I am eating too much of them. I love them too much, and am afraid I will soon be somehow punished for it.


Life with a lot of fruit is not all that it's cracked up to be.

Typical Day at Ray Halliday's

This is a picture of me.

Ray Halliday Apologizes!

Dearest, y'all,

I am very truly sorry for not giving you a picture of me and my beautiful pineapple #6. I have plenty of witnesses that can step forward and verify it's existence and my cutting of it and eating it up. Joel Murach was there when it was boughten! Mike Farino, Jola Zandecki, Mica (of Mica's Mango) Lee Williams, Timmy Binko, Lee Chae and the amazing Lois all witnessed it. Kara Daillak and Django? Did I forget them? No, I did not. It was real. It was perfect and we all (minus Mica who's got an allergy or something to them) enjoyed it a lotly.

It was out in some town where there was woods and tents, and kids.

Everyone had a nice time, encoutracized by pineapple.

Ray Halliday Says!

Five!

Mica's Mango

I had a mango today that made me think of Mica's mango. Mica's mango was mealy and it made Mica mad. Mica's mango was mealy enough that it made Mica mad at the mango. Mica managed to eat the mango, but the mango mangled Mica’s day. Of all the mangoes in the world, Mica had to pick a mealy mango. Of all the fruits in the world why did it have to be the mango that monked with Mica? Of all the people in the world why was it Mica that got the mealy mango? So many mangoes, only one Mica. Most mangoes are magnificent, but they cannot measure up to Mica.

Four! Four Pineapples, says Ray Halliday!

FOUR!

Ray Halliday: His Pants Situation

I was gonna write about either my traumatic trip to the DMV or my pants. My pants is the shorter of the two, and it is less traumatic, and I have all sorts of stuff to do today. So, please, pineapple people, let me tell you about my pants.


Because of pineapple and all of its fruity friends and leafy green cousins, I have been enjoying life and health and all that feel-good crap. But I've got a pants problem you can probably imagine. My pants no longer fit me. I've notched up my old belt as good as I can (two new holes!) and still, I've been yanking up my pants. If my hands are full, no matter which pair of pants I'm wearing, forget it, classic comedy ensues.

So, I bought three pair of pants recently, and happily or sadly (you be the judge!) I underestimated the power of pineapple, and got them all too big. Brand new pants, and they all fall down.

But, luckily, across the hall is guy, a wonderful guy. During the very late nineties I was actually going through some stuff that made me very thin for awhile and then later, I started gaining weight. It was sad, because it wasn't healthy weight. It was sad weight.

And, slowly, as I gained, I bought new pants. Sad pants, because they are not the pants you want. They are the pants you are settling for because your self is now, for whatever reason, out of your control.

I gave up my pants. Gave them to the Thrift Store. Said goodbye. Goodbye, pants, you will be missed. Pants are good because they cover your legs and your crotch and your heiny. I am thankful for pants.

There was this series of pants I was reluctant to let go of. They were a group of Levi's jeans. They were my favorites. They fit well. But mostly, they were jeans of color. Levis, for a while anyway, was making their jeans in all sorts of fun blues and greens and browns. And I found a size and cut that really worked for me, and bought about six pairs. My legs and crotch and heiny were all set.

I kept them and kept them, even when my other pants were all gone. They were my goals. Get back. Get back, Ray Halliday, to the pants you belong in. But, finally, after them sitting in my closet, unused for years, I finally threw in the pants-towel.

But not completely. I'm really smart, you see. Or, I'm so attached to things that my attachment makes me crafty. Because, around 2003 or whatever, I was ready to quit having these pants taunt me from my closet. But I couldn't give them up forever. I sneakily measured the guy across the hallway's waist, and asked him, "Q." Yes, his name is Q. "Want some pants?"

He did. He looked great in them. I was proud to have given them to such a worthy donor. Whenever I would see him in them there was much rejoicing. Both for pants and for people and for a society that gives and shares and gains weight and wears pants. Huzzah!

So, the other day I asked him, "Q, you ready to give up those pants?"

And, I picked him for a very special reason. He is the only guy in the world who would happily, with a genuine smile, be able to give up a series of pants like this. Now, I've seen his closet. The big challenge will be if he can find them. But, he delivered a pair of brown, clean Levis. My old friends! Still, not a hole or tear in them.

But to my chagrin, I had overstepped my bounds. These pants were an inch smaller in the waist than I had anticipated. I had fooled myself, over the sad and longy years, and had messed with the numbers in my head. I still had a ways to go.

Or did I?

I wouldn't even try the Q-pants on. I just laid them over a chair and welcomed them back to the apartment. Showed them around. I had to carry them to the kitchen, into the newly painted bathroom and hallway. The pants, as you can guess, were somewhat miffed, "What's going on? Why are we being carried around? Why aren't we walking around ourselves? Put us on, for goodness sake."

No, I couldn't go through that.

Then, yet another pair of new pants came in the mail. And inch less than the ones I'd been buying, and once again, they were all fally-offy.

Could it be?

I looked at those old Levis, and they nodded back to me. Come on, Ray Halliday, try us on.

And I did. And here I am, wearing pants.

Now, I may have my memory off a bit, because I know this will seem incredible. But I'm pretty sure these are the pants I rode in on, arrived in San Francisco wearing them, a lifetime ago, in September of 1991.

Ray Halliday Says Three!

Three!

Ray Halliday Says: Let's Count This One Together!

Two!

Ray Halliday Displays a Nice Fruit Bowl Starring Pineapple!

I was standing on the corner the other day, enjoying a pineapple when a guy walked up to me and said, "Please, be careful, the acid in pineapple can cause terrible sores in your mouth."

I said, "Man, I already know. Everybody's been warning me."

And it's true. When you take your love of pineapple public, the first thing you hear is the mouth-warnings.

So far so good. But I trust my friends, and so I am, like, rinsing my mouth and stuff after eating pineapple, coating my mouth with olive oil and cotton balls before eating pineapple, pouring hot candle wax into my mouth before eating pineapple. I am now fairly terrified of pineapple after getting over the initial "normal" fear of pineapple.

It is a terrifying life I lead.

I would like to thank mango and banana for helping with today's fruit bowl.

Ray Halliday Says: Let's Count 'Em Together!

Ready!



ONE!

Ray Halliday Admires and Enjoys Pineapple

I am a person who enjoys eating and talking about, and being with pineapple. I enjoy the sense of freedom it gives me. It is a new interest of mine. I will write this blog until I tire of pineapple.