I’m happy to be back here on the blog. I posted some photos of the George Floyd protest marches on Instagram. I think it’s important for people participating or witnessing the powerful, peaceful protests to post the imagery. But that platform and social media in general is a mess. Anyone who comes here at all regularly knows I think that, on the whole, those sites and our relationships with them cause more harm than good.

I was online until the wee hours uploading photos. Takes a long time. My phone is so broken that it is being held together by electric tape and hope. The only way I know to get photos (reliably) from Lightroom to IG is to sync the photo(s) with Lightroom Mobile, export to camera roll, and then upload to IG. That’s pretty frustrating when you can’t read the screen. I have a new phone coming, but it’s been delayed a couple of times. Should be here tomorrow, fingers crossed.

I digress. In that time I was online I read about 30 conflicting statements about black squares, hashtags, and posting advice. I’m skeptical about a lot of the social media claims and the need for the various directives and exhortations. People mean well, but social media is a terrible source for substantive information. The signal to noise ratio has and always will favor the noise. These are companies that have turned their employees into gazillionaires by amplifying the noise. I could just be old.

Enough of that for now. I need to spend the next couple of hours away from the computer and the news. When I started this post, my intention was to use it as a mental break from the news. Here’s what I meant to focus on.

I am absolutely hooked on Gordon Ramsay’s method for scrambled eggs. As I mentioned previously, he’d have me chased out of the kitchen for my attempts at copying him, but man, they taste good to me. (TB – thanks for the suggestion about battling the pan scrape/clean.) I don’t know why they would end up differently than scrambled eggs I make on a skillet, but they do, even when I have tried to copy Ramsay but swap the skillet for a sauce pan. No, I don’t think it would take complicated math to figure out the differences.

I heated up some pinto beans. I also warmed up a medium tortilla for a breakfast burrito. Cholula hot sauce on top. (Laughing Cow – just a little warning, if Cholula beats you to the ridiculously profitable sponsorship offer(TM), I’m gone…) Obligatory black coffee on the side. I might be sitting in an apartment that looks like a an EF-5 tornado with a particular hatred for camera gear and accessories rolled through, backed up, and rolled through again, but for a few minutes I was in the high deserts of the southwest, savoring that coffee before another long day in the saddle. (I am not to the saddle born. A long day in the saddle for me would be about 30 minutes.)

I still had some eggs and loads of beans on the stove. So I broke out the small street taco sized tortillas. I think you should always use them in pairs. Put them both on the plate, use that top tortilla for the first fly by (flyby?), and then scoop everything up with that extra tortilla.

I know what you’re thinking. Man, that guy sure has a lot of tortillas on hand. I do. I did a quick run to the grocery store yesterday for a couple of things. The tortilla rack ambushed me. Never saw them coming.

I was at the Safeway. I think I finished up at about 1700. Some of the curfews here have started that early, but now it seems like they’re starting later. Anyways, the very helpful checkout person handed me my receipt and very solemnly told me to hold onto it in case the SPD (Seattle Police Department) stopped me. It was a kind gesture.

Only Pedantic Man would have pointed out that a few blocks away every police officer in a 2 mile radius was looking out on thousands of protesters demanding justice for George Floyd. I did think it, though. More in terms of it being a scene in Super Cops or something. Thousands of protesters and police squaring off near East Precinct, but Officer Vigilant decides to make an example out of a curfew buster.

“You, sir, in the Subaru…yes, you, the dude with the bad DIY buzzcut…stop your car and slowly move your hands away from the tortillas. Mister, I hope you haven’t got any perishables in there, because you’re spending the night in jail.”