Ryan Byrd’s Ramblings

That’s a quotation from Francis Bacon. I think if he had seen these books (taken from Awful Library Books) he would have added, “and some books are to be used as great conversation starters.”

Q1. Are you in Australia? Yes- Weet-Bix
No- Q2. Do you care about the roof of your mouth? No- Capn Crunch, Crunch Berries
Yes- Q3. Is it October? Yes- Boo Berries, Count Chocula, Fraken Berry
No- Q4. Are you Over 50?
Yes- Q5. Are you “regular”? Yes- Quisp
Q5 No- Fiber One
Q4 No- Q6. Do you want chocolate milk too? Yes- Cocoa Pebbles, Cocoa Krispies, Cocoa Puffs
Q6 No- Q7. Do you chew on gravel? Yes- Grape-nuts
Q7 No- Q8. Are you trying to eat healthy?
Yes- Q9. really?
Q9 Yes- Q10. Are you pretentious?
Q10 Yes- Go Lean
Q10 No- Total, Special K, Cheerios
Q9 No- Honey bunches of oats, Mini Wheats, Raisin Bran
No. Q11. Do you want dessert too? Yes- Cookie Crisp, Reese’s Puffs, Fruity Pebbles
No. Q12. Are you immune to diabetes? Yes- Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Frosted Flakes
No. Q13. Are you high? Yes- Pops, Apple Jacks, Honey Smacks
No. Q14. Are you drunk? Yes- Lucky Charms, Trix, Froot Loops
No. Q15. Are you Chuck Norris? Yes- Cracklin’ Oat Bran
No. Q16. Are you a champion? Yes- Wheaties
No. Q17. Are you on food stamps? Yes- Malt-O-Meal
No. Q18. Do you love the classics? Yes- Kix, Rice Krispies, Corn Flakes
No. Q19. Are you ready for the greatest bowl ever? Yes- Golden Grahams, Life

src: http://eatingtheroad.wordpress.com/2009/11/23/what-should-i-eat-cereal-edition-flowchart/

I’ve railed against the Black Friday madness for the last two years. This year might be different. Of course, in years past, I’ve simply stated that if you don’t have any money, you shouldn’t go on spending sprees; mounting consumer debt and a negative savings rates are big problems for America. However, if you HAVE money, you should spend some of it. Spending money creates jobs and inspires investor confidence. But, it only works if everyone, or at least a lot of us,  do it. Given the current economic climate, people are afraid, and even if they have extra money, they’re sitting on it– putting off those needed purchases, which only exacerbates the problem. Enter economic game theory’s classic Prisoner’s Dilemma:

Two suspects are arrested by the police. The police have insufficient evidence for a conviction, and, having separated both prisoners, visit each of them to offer the same deal. If one testifies (defects from the other) for the prosecution against the other and the other remains silent (cooperates with the other), the betrayer goes free and the silent accomplice receives the full 10-year sentence. If both remain silent, both prisoners are sentenced to only six months in jail for a minor charge. If each betrays the other, each receives a five-year sentence. Each prisoner must choose to betray the other or to remain silent. Each one is assured that the other would not know about the betrayal before the end of the investigation. How should the prisoners act?

In a nutshell, though the suspects would do better if they cooperated with each other, fear and distrust leads them towards betrayal, even though the results are NOT optimal. Similarly, you have money and could spend it, but you don’t want to if others aren’t going to spend their money, so what do you do? Take a chance, and spend the money. Take it from me, it’s the right thing to do. You could buy me a birthday present, for example…

related: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-segal/trapped-in-prisoners-dile_b_310606.html

In preparing for marriage, I’ve begun to solicit advice from intelligent people everywhere. Today, I had a quick conversation with a good friend (and boss) at work, Bryan B. I asked how he and his wife managed their money. Here is his system:

All income goes into a joint bank account. Joint expenses (explained below) are paid first. The rest of the money is split equally into individual accounts for husband and wife.

Joint expenses are expenses that

• Must be paid (mortgage, utilities, etc.)
• Each spouse cares equally about (savings, rainy-day fund, etc)

Yes, we’ve talked about finances in marriage before

How many arguments in your marriage deal with differences over money?

When I was 10 years old, I discovered in PE that, because my two older brothers had, for years, constantly tried to beat me up, I had become a rather talented sprinter. (Avoiding a fight when the aggressors are 5 years older is a good strategy at that age.) Given this proficiency at speedy locomotion, I joined the middle school cross country team. My first official race was a 2 miler around nearby Baker Lake (in Maryland), starting and finishing around the high school track. To support my new-found interest, my Mom and younger sister were in attendance.

The starter gun went off and I accelerated out from the pack, my legs propelling me along at a quick pace. As I rounded the far side of the lake, out of sight of onlookers, I heard the strides of two other runners rapidly approaching. I moved to let them pass. To my horror, instead of just passing, one of the two boys shoved me violently and I tumbled headlong down the slope into an overgrown patch of vicious briars. I lay there, scratched and bleeding, stunned at my untimely predicament.

Somehow I managed to untangle myself from the thorns and climb the incline back onto the trail. Rivulets of blood streamed from the mass of cuts on my legs and arms. Limping along, fighting back tears, I covered the remaining distance and with a lap of the track to go, I gritted my teeth and sprinted in. I can remember my mom coming down from the bleachers, excited for my efforts. As she approached, her look switched to concern as she saw my condition.

In my memory box, the only photo I have of any race I ran before high school (and there were hundreds), was that race. Ironically, because the photo is taken from afar, I seem triumphant, almost exuberant, as I, alone, race around the final turn of the track. It’s funny how pictures can be so wrong...

Did I mention that I still managed to not come in last place? That tidbit makes the experience just a tad sweeter for me

Guy: So do you have any hobbies?
Girl: I go to the gym but I wouldn’t call that a hobby. I read books and used to collect koala bears. I once took up crocheting in college. That’s all I got for hobbies.

I was born on a sultry spring afternoon in the backseat of a ’72 barracuda. my mother, a fourteen year old norwegian burlesque star, left shortly thereafter to pursue a career in finance. i was raised in part by my mustachioed paternal grandmother trixie. my father was a narcissistic chocolatier with a heavy hand and a penchant for strong drink. my childhood was quite typical, really. . . summers in monte carlo, bocce on the east lawn, producing moonshine down in the holler. sometimes i would laugh. sometimes i’d dream. sometimes i’d dress up like a clown and catch polliwogs at the creek.

I like lima beans, but I’ve never been to Lima, Peru. I paper trade, but I don’t trade paper. I like to dig pits, but not for my neighbor. I’m a sucker for a good cause. I prefer playing to spectating. I eat meat. I thrive on chaos, but crave order. I am drawn to small towns but am addicted to the energy of megacities. I feed off of variety, necessitate change, have a proclivity for living abroad and harbor a deep attraction to challenges. I’m a mover and a shaker, a storyteller, an idealist, an explorer, a wordsmith, an inventor, a humorist, a bibliophile, an artist, and altruist, an adventurer, a performer, and a polyglot

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless–it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.
C. S. Lewis

Though I’ve not yet completed a life goal of attending chef’s school, I have begun cooking more often. Over the weekend, I baked chocolate chip cookies (from scratch) while Rachel decorated our Christmas tree. The cookies turned out to be surprising edible, and when we took a small batch of them to a soirée, they were a big hit.

Maybe I’ll soon tire of preparing the usual foods. If so, the 1960′s pamphlet, Good Eating from Woods and Fields, might come in handy. This lovely cultural artifact features recipes for beaver, rabbit, squirrel, woodchuck, and muskrat (marsh hare). My favorite part of the “Roast Beaver a La Michigan” recipe is this line, “The fat is objectionable in both flavor and odor and should be entirely removed from the carcass before cooking.” It’s rare that you’ll find the word carcass in a cookbook.

The results are in!

ah, the good old days, when things were simpler…

OVER coffee and her after-dinner Camels, Lenore says, “‘For digestion’s sake — smoke Camels’ is a rule with me. Camels help me enjoy my food no matter how tired or tense I may be. Camels set me right! I smoke them as often as I wish and always with keen enjoyment.” Because Camels are so mild — because they are made from such fine, costly tobaccos — you can enjoy them freely. At mealtimes, Camels encourage a free flow of digestive fluids — alkaline digestive fluids — and lend a helping hand to good digestion. Camels give you a “lift” in energy. They don’t get on the nerves or irritate the throat.