A Thought on Michael

Included this at the close of my daily roundup at the NDN Blog on Friday. I stand by it:

It is my sad duty to report to you something you already know: Michael Jackson, the king of pop, has died. A man who spent his early life in the limelight, and the prime of his life as a global pop icon, this marks the sad end of a life that had become a sad spectacle in recent years, as the oddity of Jackson's personal life overtook his success as a singer. His passing, however, gives us the chance to remember him as we loved him best, and as he would surely hope to be remembered. He was, at his best, nothing less than a thriller:

Michael Jackson |MTV Music

The Stag Cookbook

In the great Venn Diagram of things I like, the various circles representing old books, food, and manly things overlap in just a small sliver. I'm glad to say that, courtesy of Saidi, via Yglesias, from a guy named Dave, I've found a gem that satisfies all three, and might delight you as well.

The Stag Cookbook, Written for Men, By Men takes lessons from a variety of manly Americans, and teaches gentlemen not unlike myself how to cook with delicious results. Herein we learn that President Warren G. Harding preferred creamed chipped beef drizzled on his waffles, that Charlie Chaplin was gaga for steak & kidney pie, and that John Philip Sousa, perhaps unsurprisingly, referred to spaghetti and meat sauce as "Pelotas a la Portuguese."

And qualifying for a fourth Venn circle, the book opens with a ridiculous rhyme:

They may live without houses and live without books
So the saying has gone through the ages
But a civilized man cannot live without cooks
It's a libel as proved by these pages

For when left by himself in a small kitchenette
With a saucepan a spoon and a kettle
A man can make things that you'll never forget
That will put any cook on her mettle

Where camp fires glow through the still of the night
Where grills are electric and shiny
Where kitchens are huge done in tiling of white
Where stoves are exceedingly tiny

Where people are hungry no matter the place
A man can produce in a minute
A dish to bring smiles to each skeptical face
With art and real food value in it

At range and at oven at whisper it still
A man is undoubtedly master
His cooking is done with an air and a skill
He's sure as a woman and faster

He may break the dishes and clutter the floor
And if he is praised he deserves it
He may flaunt his prowess until he's a bore
But Boy what he serves when he serves it!