Saturday, August 9, 2008

Doug's (don't call me) Chicken Chili

What happened to my summer? I turned on the TV the other night and what the hell was that?

Football?

This in the first week of August?

We should be humming 'Boat-Floatin' songs or listening to the Tigers on the radio while we put sliced ring-bologna, Vidalia onion and Pinconning cheese on saltines, crack open ice cold Little Kings from the cooler and bob along on Lake Louise with a fishing line trailing out the back of the pontoon boat.

What parallel universe have I stumbled into? Is this a place where they trick-or-treat on the Fourth of July? Is Santa making his way down from the North Pole to put presents around the Labor Day Tree? Is someone going to put Saran Wrap on my toilet seat, jump out of a closet and yell "August Fool's Day!"?

I know ... I'm going a little overboard. No need to get all girly and hysterical.

Fact is, it was just pre-season football. And, when I think about it, it's only a few weeks sooner than I would've normally anticipated its arrival.

And it was the Detroit Lions, (who just barely count as a football team ....)

Understand, I love football. You know I watched the game. It was football, after a fashion, and I'm still just a testosterone-powered boy from the midwest deep down. In fact the only thing I don't like about the coming of football season is that it's a painful sign that summer's about to breathe it's last and another northern winter is a-comin' hard on it's heels, compete with 5 months of sub-freezing temps and 6 measley hours of grey-shrouded daylight days.

But I'm from Michigan. When I watch football I don't expect to peek out the window and see a sun-burnt-brown lawn and unfinished yard projects!

And Hootchie Mama! Right now it's dog-days hot! It's air-conditioning-on-full-all-night-long hot in my part of the state!

It's not like I live in Arizona where it's always hot! Talk to me about Arizona after Christmas when God meant for you to be somewhere hot! You know, like for a bowl game!

Football is the only sign my poor friends in Florida get that the season has changed out of summer and into fall. Well, that and the rise in hotel prices in anticipation of the arrival of the migratory Snowbirds.

{In truth, Florida and Michigan's Upper Peninsula are quite similar in this respect: they both have only two actual seasons;

In Florida you have your Summer Season, (also known as your Hurricane Season), which runs from June through about the middle of October and is celebrated in many small Florida towns by the traditional frying-of-the-egg-on-the-sidewalk bit, (which is still a crack-up no matter how many times you've seen it). Then you have your Tourist Season, which comes on around mid-October, builds up a full head of steam about a week before Christmas and hurtles head-long into the sub-season of Spring Break, (which is the begining-of-the-end and the absolute how-we-gonna-get-outta-here damned acme-peak of Tourist Season). The end of Spring Break in mid-May is observed in many ocean-front communities by the traditional 'clean up the beach and empty the jails of those damn college kids' celebration and parade. Very quaint.

By contrast, (and as the old joke goes), Michigan's Upper Peninsula's two seasons are known as Winter and about two weeks in August known as Bad Snowmobiling.

By even further contrast, in John McCain's home state of Arizona, they have three seasons: The Hot Season; the Damn! It's Hot Season and The I'll Be Go To Hell I believe I'm Fixing to Fry Out Here Season. (In case you're scoring at home).}

(And once again I digress... my apologies.)

One of the things I love most about regular football season (aside from my buddy Jay's 50 yard-line seats at Spartan Stadium) is the slow fade of summer heat into crisp, clear fall weather and the natural and healthy desire to cook up enough of something to feed 10 or 20 of your closest friends so they have something to wash down with their favorite libations prior to, during and after the big game.

And that's the reason I called: To begin the football-tailgate-recipe series!

Up this week: Doug's (Don't Call Me) Chicken Chili! You'll find it posted on the right hand side of this blog page, thanks to my eldest daughter, Miss Tia Leah, (ain't she cute?), who cut and pasted it over there off an e-mail I sent her, along with my other recipes.

('Cause I don't know how to do it myself yet. Don't laugh at me...she's gonna send directions....)

But first, this reminder to ask that you click on the latest 'Google Ads' you'll also find on the right side of the page, or peruse a book or song choice from one of the many slide shows you'll find on the blog site. It costs you nothing to click unless you buy something cool, (if that should suit your fancy).

I thank you, my many children and grandchildren thank you, my girlfriend thanks you and of course my ex-wife thanks you, too.
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For the record: I can do a German accent. Unfortunately, it's mostly reminiscent of Sgt. Schultz from "Hogan's Hero's" and not what you would call 'believable'. So when I got a call earlier this past week to audition for the principle role of "German Obstetrician" for the soon-to-be-made-for-TNT-true-story-movie about world famous neuro-surgeon Dr. Ben Carson (starring Cuba Gooding, Jr!), I called the referring agent and asked if they were looking for someone who could actually do a believable German accent.

"Nope. They asked for you specifically. I assume it's because you look kind of German".

Oh. Really. Well, who am I to argue? (Or should I say, "Ja volt, Herr Commandant!"?)

The first question I asked the casting agent when I got in to the audition was, "So you don't need a German accent for this role, huh?"

"Yeah you do. He's German." (She didn't call me 'dumb-ass', but I could see it in her eyes...)

Well hell. I was already there, right? I wasn't going to make that 130 mile round trip and not read! I gave it the old college try, with predictable results. (I know nothing! Nothing!!)

If they reprise Hogan's Hero's, though, I got a shot.

I was seriously steamed at my agent for just making stuff up. But the Casting Director was great. All was not lost. She, (Carrie Ray by the way. What a peach!), found another role for me to read for and really went out of her way to get me on tape for the producer. And it may work out yet. I got an e-mail from her this afternoon to let me know she thought it went very well and she sent it out to the producer Friday.


So be cool, fool. You don't know what can happen if you give it a shot. 80% of life is just showing up. (The other 30% is math)....
dA

1 comment:

Character Man said...

Your "German accent" situation with the casting director was well-played, Sir :)