Wednesday, January 21, 2004

Oiled and Ready

News on the fitness front: We finally got another set of wheels, nice skinny ones on an aluminum roadbike frame.  Kel’s been wanting a fast sled for a long time and now we can ride together, her on a roadbike and me on an ATB.  It’s old, it’s used, and it’s a bit archaic; on the other hand, it’s super clean, feather light, and damn fast.  She already handles it very well and we’re looking forward to a lot more jaunts and velocipidations.  Plus, it came with a mag trainer, on the rollers of which I have already mounted my old beater bike so I can do some serious resistance cycling training indoors on those rainy nights and early mornings.  Yay.

On the down side, this is all going to lead to some sore muscles and tired joints.  And that’s good - that’s okay - that shows we’re pushing ourselves, being the best we can be… and thankfully we found balm, or a balm, that seems to suck the ache right out of our flesh.  Let’s hear it for Johnson’s Emu Oil!  About time, you say, that the international shame of emu-glut was addressed in this ecoconscious, win-win way.  Finally, a use for those emus clogging our national byways and flyways.  The thing is, it works really well.  None of that topical searing/chilling from blue ice or the traditional mentholated linements - it’s just cool and goopy, and then about five minutes later you notice the aching has gone away.  It’s a great product, and I also enjoy saying the name: “Johnson’s Emu Oil.” Just rolls off the tongue doesn’t it, euphonious as a murmur.  I actually can’t get it out of my mind.  That’s not so bad, except I also start switching the words around as I mumble it to myself on my way down the street.  “Johnson’s Emu Oil.  Johnson’s Oiled Emu.  Emu’s Johnson Oil.  Emu’s Oiled Johnson.  Oiled Emu Johnson.” Needless to say, I hit a mental cul-de-sac and then get stuck there.  Stuck with Emu Oil and no place to go.  Well, other than the obvious.

To my credit, there’s another commercial name I’m able to invoke to dispel the spell that Johnson’s Emu Oil has cast over me: the EuroWiz.  I can’t find a web link for this clever product that my mom gave us for the holidays but the general idea is that it’s two flat wire whisks that connect at a hinge at the bottom of the handle with a spring so they pop apart unless latched together.  They’re great for turning frying food, whipping up sauces, stirring thick soups, and a variety of other uses, both culinary and not.  There’s a reason why they call it the “Euro-Whiz.” Although any tool with both the words “uro” and “wiz” in the name might not make it into every american kitchen, I’m not going to let a bit of linguistic squeamishness stand in my way.  I’m oiled and ready, Johnson.  EuroWiz me!

Are you doing this on purpose? ‘cause right about now, I think Krissa should be giving you the “Gayest blogger” owlie. (And I don’t even like the word “blog")

What’s the point of exercising until you’re sore if you’re just going to slather crap all over yourself? Maybe Gopi’s right and there’s something funny going on here.

You ain’t right.

In my own order: Bill, the Handy Chef is about right but lacks the qualities of both Euro and Wiz, and therefore I have to claim the superior product.  CW, if this isn’t right I don’t want to be wrong.  Well that didn’t exactly come out properly but you and your dryer-riding butt are hardly in a position to be dictating what ain’t right.  Greg, you underestimate the independent value of crap slathering.  It’s a beautiful thing.  But Gopi, you seem tense.  Let’s recall that you are reading a book that gives you a splitting headache every time you read it, and you read it at a tiny fraction of your usual reading speed.  It’s worth while because it enriches your mind.  Well it sounds like a giant pain to me but I respect your decision to read a twelve billion page hindi manuscript.  And please keep in mind that the “Johnson” to whom I refer in my final sentence was the lovely and enticing Ms Bubbles Johnson.  I may be euro but I’m not that euro.  Geez Greg have some faith.

fast sled? mag trainer? resistance cycling? This exercise language of yours is completely foreign. Please explain further, or better yet, give us some food talk.

Emu Oil I get, but my question is, can it be used to fry thick slabs of bacon?

Euro-Whiz??? What kind of name is Euro-whiz?? At first I was thinking it could be some European version of Cheez Whiz(tm). Guyere in a can. Instead they took the Handy Chef(tm)and made it better. Damn Europeans. Ok, so it may be a better product but man, someone in marketing/product development fell asleep mid meeting there. Euro-Whip would be a much cooler name. Cuz you could whip and fold and um, yeah, do stuff with it. I’m calling them and telling them right now to seriously consider a name change. What! There’s no link! Google to the rescue. (Sadly looking at my Handy Chef and knowing it’s inferior. Sigh.)

Hm… I think Jules is onto something there.  Can I grease the bottom of a pan of brownies with this Johnson’s Emu Oil?

;)

i own a foot bath/massager that is made by a company called “homedics”.  pronounced ho-medics, like field medical help for cheap prostitutes.  i can’t help but giggle every time i see the box.

“Medic!  She’s down!  We need some help over here at the corner of Polk and Hyde!”

Egads! Have you ever smelled emu oil?? I would never, ever, never allow it near a food product that was intended to be eaten or placed near my lips which would be in direct alignment with my nose. No way!

EXTERNAL USE ONLY!  EXTERNAL USE ONLY!  Jeez you people shouldn’t be let in a kitchen.  And Jules, you want a recipe?  Offer open for three days: send me an email requesting a recipe and I’ll tell you how to make lucky glucose squares.  They will change your life.

My friend told me about Johnson’s Emu Oil last year, and I got all up on my high horse: “That’s impossible!  Emus are extinct!  You can’t make oil out of an extinct animal!  And even if they weren’t extinct, they’d definitely be endangered, and you can’t make oil out of an endangered animal, either!  Hoity-toity blah blah blah!”

And then I realized I was thinking of the dodo.  D’oh.