Saturday, December 24, 2011

Sorry It's Taken So Long for Me to Post This, Part Two: Popcorn, Posadas, and Promotions

This is actually Part Two of a very long post.  If you missed part one,
CLICK HERE to catch up. 

After Thanksgiving (and the unwelcome hangover), I braced myself for those crazy, stressful weeks before Christmas.  There are always about 437 events to get to and this year was no different.  But, in the middle of all that, Andrew (and I) were dealing with an educational (but rather time-consuming) school project.   In early October, the teacher had started a unit on Economics.  The class made up their own country (Dragon Galaxy) and came up with their own currency (Dragon Gold.)  They earned money by following classroom rules and completing their homework on time.  One poor kid was given the job of Treasurer and each night he had to go home and separate the money each student had earned that day.  Guess who decided to volunteer for the job of Treasurer?  That's right...  ANDREW.  At first he was very proud of his new position, but as the weeks passed guess who became the REAL treasurer of Dragon Galaxy?  That's right---ME.  The kids normally leave for school at 8am, so each day around 7:55 you'd hear me say, "Oh crap!  Andrew!  We forgot to do the treasury stuff!"  That became our routine for much of November. 

The culminating events of Dragon Galaxy were three business sessions at which the kids had to sell something (cheap) to their classmates.  The kids could use their earned Dragon Gold to buy eachothers' wares.  Some kids made beaded necklaces or Christmas ornaments.   One kid made Candy Sushi.   I was grateful when Andrew decided to sell popcorn.  Seemed pretty easy, right?  For three Wednesdays in December Andrew had to bring in 15 or so baggies of popcorn to sell to his friends.  Well, apparently these kids have only eaten microwave popcorn, so when they tried Andrew's authentic, homemade, carcinogen-free, air popped popcorn-- they were hooked.  The first week Andrew sold out of his popcorn before the end of the business session.  The next week, we made 18 bags, he raised the price, and sold out in 15 minutes.  By the last week it was clear that popcorn was the hot ticket in town. 


We made 34 bags of popcorn and Andrew raised the price again.  He had a line of kids within 30 seconds of the session starting, and sold out in 10 minutes.  One mom even told me that her daughter was so upset that she didn't get to the popcorn fast enough last time, so this week she abandoned her own table just to get in line.  Here's a little video of the businessman in action.  The annoyingly loud countdown and whistle-blowing at the beginning is how they start off each business session.  You may want to hit your mute button for that.  (don't say I didn't warn you.) 



Now, I'm sure you're all wondering, what's the big deal with this popcorn?  The last few weeks I've had many requests for my recipe, and now you, my lucky readers, will find out how it's done. 

First you start off with this throwback from the eighties. 

 

The broken handle makes it extra flavorful (and adds that bit of adrenaline rush as you're trying to flip the whole thing over without burning your hand off.)  You break the handle by dropping the antique popcorn maker on the kitchen floor. 

Next you add a little popcorn oil and popcorn.  I use the following: 


Finally, the top secret ingredient.  Unfortunately, I can't find this on Okinawa, so hopefully this will last until we visit next summer, or I'm going to start begging you guys to send me some.



Some of you are too young to remember the days of pre-microwave popcorn, but for children of the 80s this was very high tech in popcorn making circles.  What you do is pour the oil onto the machine, then about 1/2 a cup of kernels, and finally, a generous amount of the top secret butter seasoning.  This is the key to making it taste all salty and yummy throughout--put on the seasoning before the popping.  Bill and my Mom will be very surprised to hear that I don't even measure the seasoning--I just sprinkle it all on there until it just looks right.  (This is very uncharacteristic of me--Queen of Specific Recipes)  Put the lid on (which can also double as a bowl...fancy, huh!) Plug it in and, waaalaaa....in about five minutes you have a bowlful of popcorn.  And you also have about five minutes of Peace On Earth because the kids find it fascinating to watch the popcorn pop.  Random neighbor children even run in off the street whenever they smell that buttery aroma emanating from our house.   (just kidding--we know that kid.) 



So by this point I'm sure you guys are sick of me talking about popcorn and are thinking I need to get out a little more often.  Luckily, we had other things to keep us busy.  Our next big December event was Emma's School Christmas program.  Actually, only 3rd graders were participating in the Christmas Program.   Emma was the only 4th grader to take part in the show because she was selected by the music teacher to be the Student Director.  Don't worry, our diva daughter certainly did not let this honor go to her head.  When the day of the performance finally came, I think we were all more than ready very excited for the big event. 

You might be wondering how our Department of Defense, public school got away with having a Christmas program.  Well, actually it was a Holiday program and the clever teacher had the kids sing songs about different holidays around the world.    Believe it or not, there were even a few songs about Jesus in the show.  Naturally, I'm going to include a little snippet of the program.  (Watch the first 10 seconds, and the rest of the video is pretty much the same thing.)   I chose this song because it brought back childhood memories of the Christmas programs my mother dragged us to  encouraged us to take part in.   It took every ounce of self-discipline to not throw down the video camera, push that kid in the poncho out of the way, grab some Claves, and really show those folks how a Posada performance is supposed to go.  (Most of you won't get that joke, but some of my fellow performers reading this definitely will.) 




Finally, a couple of weeks ago Bill received some BIG NEWS at work.  The last few months we have been (not so) patiently waiting to find out the results of the next  promotion selection board.   He's helped me out in remembering all the details of the big event.  I think  it was a Thursday when he received a phone call around 1630 (4:30pm) from the General's office asking (telling) him to come by when he had a chance (now) because the General would like to speak with him.  In military circles, this is akin to being called to the Principal's office, and sparks the same feeling of impending doom.  He figured either his unit had done something really bad and he was about to get chewed out for it, or that he'd been passed for promotion and the General wanted to let him down gently before the rest of the population found out.  So he goes over to the Generals' building.  Bill said there was some initial small talk and that he made some kind of sarcastic remark that he wasn't sure the General appreciated.   The General did not give the impression that he was about to share good news, and even grew rather stern in his conversation.  Bill prepared for the worst.  Finally he tells Bill (who had just been ordered to stand at attention), "I want you to say to yourself,... Self, let this sink in." Bill remained quiet as he was standing at attention in front of a general officer.  "Go on, say it," the General says.  Bill repeats the sentence.  Then the General says, "That I've just been selected as # XXX on this year's promotion selection list."  To steal a quote from Mary, Bill didn't see that coming!  As the realization of his promotion sunk in, the roller coaster of emotions almost brought him to tears.  However, our tough Marine managed to maintain his composure -- the last thing he wanted to do was start crying in front of the GENERAL!  They shook hands, exchanged a few more words, and then Bill went back to work for a few more hours.

Now, don't get too excited that now that he'll be making the big bucks (not really) you guys should expect some pretty swanky Christmas presents from us.  He probably won't be promoted until the spring or summer of 2013!  This announcement was just to let him know that he (and about 350 other Majors) had been selected for promotion.  The Marine Corps, and all the services for that matter, can be painfully slow when it comes to actually promoting people, but  hopefully in a (not so) short 18 months he'll be wearing that silver leaf on his collar. 

That's pretty much all that's been going on around here.  Since you probably won't hear from me again until Valentine's Day, I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas and a great New Year.  We miss you all! 





Thursday, December 22, 2011

Sorry It's Taken So Long For Me To Post This, Part One: Tunnels, Toilets, and Tequila

I think I'm going to rename this blog "Sorry It's Taken Me So Long to Update This Blog." That seems to be the first line of each new post for the last few months. So, today I'm going to ignore the children and do some more last minute Christmas procrastinating so I can fill you in on recent (and not so recent) events around here.

Last time I wrote was before Thanksgiving. (Sweet Jesus, I've really become a slacker.) I had promised to tell you about our tunnel rats tour.  For the last 6 weeks you've probably been wondering, "What the hell is a tunnel rat?  And why would we want to go on a tour of it?"  If you think back to World War II history, you might remember that Okinawa was the sight of many battles.  (For the Japanese, they were losing battles, which is one reason why I'm living here today!)  According to our tour guide, the Okinawans knew that since most of them are shorter than me, their physical size would be no match for the gigantic, burly Americans and they had to think of a clever (albiet losing) strategy to defeat these guys.   So, they decided to go underground.  They built very elaborate tunnels using only pick axes (you can still see the marks they made.)  The first tunnel we went into was quite impressive.  It was the Underground Naval Headquarters which is where many Okinawa soldiers lived, slept, and worked during the war.  It was really amazing to see all the they had built underground.  Unfortunately, it was also the place where many of them committed suicide when they decided that things were hopeless.  What a fun way to spend the day, right?  You can tell the kids were excited: 


I have no idea why Emma is doing that, ahem.... inviting pose, or why Mary has that solemn face, but it could be because they were reading the sign on the opposite wall --



The Underground Naval Headquarters is a popular tourist spot on Okinawa so there's the required gift shop and (luckily) restrooms.  Again, I'm going to apologize to my sensitive readers, but when Mary and I went in to "use the facilities" we found this: 


After double checking to make sure we were in the ladies room, I decided we'd better get to down to business and figure out how to use this thing.  I had read about this and knew that squatting was required, but it was also my understanding that there would be handles to hold on to.  Well, I guess someone forgot to put the handles in this stall.  I'm not going to go into more detail about this but I will say it's a good thing I've been working out.   If you're still curious about how all this works, here's a little website that explains the whole process:



Once we were finished with that tour (and I'd figured out how to use the toilet) we headed to another tunnel that the Japanese used during the war.  It turned out to be less of a tunnel and more of a cave, but apparently the soldiers also used these as hideouts during the war.  On the bus ride over, the tour guide gave us a little briefing on cave safety and precautions.  He'd asked if we had remembered to bring our flashlights (which we hadn't) and then he told us to watch out for these critters:   


                              
Apparently these little fellows like to hang out along the cave walls, so if you're wandering around in the pitch dark and you decide to use the wall to steady yourself, don't be surprised if one of these guys decides to crawl up your sleeve!  That's when I said, "That's great...no cave for me.  I'll hang out at the entrance with all the other wimps."  Emma was also a little concerned about the gigantic centipedes, so Bill took Michael, Andrew, and Mary into the cave with the other brave tourists (who had flashlights) while Emma and I hung out at the entrance.  About 10 minutes after they left, Emma found her nerve and decided she wanted to go into the cave as well.  Unfortunately I had not yet found my nerve and was not about to go into that cave flashlight-less.  (To be honest, even if I'd had a flashlight, I probably wouldn't have gone into the Cave of Freakish Centipedes.)  She spent the next 20 minutes pleading  begging  whining  persistently asking if I would take her in there.  I'd like to think I'd be willing to risk my life for my kids, but apparently I'm not willing to risk running into a centipede-on-steroids for my kids.  Finally, the cave dwellers emerged, and Bill gave Emma a quick little tour of the cave before we had to leave. 


We took the tunnel rat/cave tour on a Sunday, and that next Thursday was Thanksgiving.   This year our Thanksgiving was, um....interesting. A group of neighbors invited us to an outdoor potluck-type dinner that I wasn't exactly thrilled about having to attend in the first place. However, they were the neighbors, so they'd know if we were making something up about having other plans. All they'd have to do is see our cars in the driveway, or see the boys playing Nerf wars outside and we'd be caught. The dinner started around 2pm and actually turned out much better than I expected. The food was good, the kids were entertained by a bounce house and crafts, and the temperature even dropped below 80 degrees so it actually felt like a real Thanksgiving. However, around 5pm, the mood of the party changed dramatically.  That's when the margaritas and shots started flowing. Now, I'm all for having a good time, but I don't recall the Pilgrims & Indians playing drinking games at the First Thanksgiving. You might think that these were younger neighbors and we were the old farts of the crowd, but that wasn't the case either. We're talking 30-something, PTA moms who must have missed their calling for bartending. It was a surreal experience--with kids doing crafts at one table, and moms doing shots at the next table. Apparently one of the neighbors decided to nominate herself as Alcohol Intake Monitor and wanted to make sure everyone kept up with her. That's when I decided to call it a night. I'm too old to be having someone tell me I'm not drinking my margarita fast enough. But alas, it was too late. I'm sure the kids will remember this first Thanksgiving in Okinawa as the Year Mom Got Drunk at Thanksgiving. Good times.  A friend of mine put this up on Facebook, and I thought it'd be appropriate for this post. 




With that pleasant thought, I'm going to stop here so you guys can take a break and be grateful you live in a country without freakishly large insects and with normal toilets.  In the next post I'll talk about our crazy December.  I promise it will be soon.  It's already typed up--I'm just waiting for my editor (Bill) to check one thing before I put it out there for all the world to see.  Stay tuned!