A Dude's Guide. . . to everything

Another One For The Books

by Richard

It’s not a party until something’s broken. Well, dudes, I’ve thought up another cliché. It’s not a school year, until someone’s missed a bus.

Yep, it’s true. Less than a week into the school year and Hyper Lad has already missed the bus. Not in a metaphorical sense, you understand, but the actual, physical sense of not being there when the school bus pulls up to onload the precious little anklebiters.

The best part about it is that this is the year when his school day got pushed back 30 minutes. Instead of school starting at 8:45 am and running until 3:45 pm, Hyper Lad now doesn’t have to be in school until 9:15 am and only gets out at 4:15 pm. And we still didn’t make the bus.

Way to start the second day of school there, dad. And, yes, it was my fault.

But, come on, dudes. I was lulled into a false sense of security by the idiocy of the bus schedule. Here’s the deal. The first day of school, the bus didn’t get there until 9 am, when it was supposed to be there at 8:45 am. The fact that the afternoon bus was an hour late getting in that first day didn’t help my sense of urgency.

Now I’m to blame because I actually took the time to read the newspaper comics with Hyper Lad before setting out, just in time to see the bright yellow bus pull away, a good 10 minutes before it was supposed to arrive at his stop.

Here’s the thing: The schedules were rearranged to save money on the bus schedule, but I think something’s a bit messed up. Instead of a full bus load of kids, Hyper Lad’s morning bus is carrying all of six kids to school. The afternoon bus is only a little different, with 12 young dudes and dudettes on the bus home.

Which strikes me as slightly ridiculous. How is running a total of 18 young dudettes and dudes back and forth to school on two buses supposed to be saving money? Not that I’m complaining all that much, considering that on last year’s buses, Hyper Lad and the other riders were sitting three to a seat both ways.

Here’s hoping the schedule shakes out a bit better in the weeks to come. I mean, I have no interest in grabbing Buzz, the garbage disposal that walks like a dog, throwing him into the MachoMobile (my new name for the mini-van. It was either that or the CoolMachine. Still debating it.) and then forcing Hyper Lad to sit through my — to him — atrocious taste in morning radio shows to take him to school.

Well, either that or I start getting my act together in the mornings, but what are the chances of that happening?

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Back To Make You Feel Even Older

by Richard

Every year, Beloit College comes out with a mindset list to help professors there acclimate to just how, exactly, (if at all) their newly enrolled students (hello, Sarcasmo!) think.

Or, if not how they think, at least how they think about the world around them.

The class of 2015, which includes all this year’s incoming freshmen in college, are a strange bunch. At least to me. And I’ve got two of them (basically) running around in my life.

For instance, let’s look at their grasp of geography. To them, when we say Amazon, they probably think not of the majestic river, the home of biodiversity and the lungs of the world, but cheap books and electronics. Amazon.com, that is.

Ferris Bueller (Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?) and Sloane Peterson, the eternally truant high schoolers of that eponymous movie about a day off, are old enough to be parents to most of these freshmen.

For these freshmen, it’s not a big deal that there’s two women on the U.S. Supreme Court because it’s always been like that. And they also know how to swipe cards, not clothing. Or other merchandise.

Here’s a frightening one for you to think about: For these young dudes and dudettes, O.J. Simpson has always been “looking” for the “real killers” of Nicole Simpson and Ronald Goldman. Looking hard, I’m sure. And probably avoiding mirrors.

Arnold Palmer isn’t a revered golfer, he’s the avuncular face on a can holding a great-tasting drink that mixes lemonade and tea. Of course, that’s not all that difficult for me to believe, because I’ve sort of thought the same way. Without the drink, though. I just never thought of Arnold Palmer. Sorry, dude.

These punks have always had electric cars somewhere on the highway, an information superhighway with an on-ramp in their home, and that life is like a highway. Okay, I just added that last one, but I can only say highway so many times without thinking of that son.

I’m old. Sue me.

Anyway, you should try and check out the rest of the list for some more interesting insight. Here’s one to think about. How much you wanna bet that in five years, one of the things on the Beloit College mindset list will be that the class of 2020 has always had a Beloit College mindset list to guide the thinking of their professors? It was first published in 1998.

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Dude Food: Meatball Lasagna

by Richard

Things here at the Jones Compound are a bit. . . hectic. .  . at the moment. We’ve been forced to eat out for most of the last two months or so. And when I say forced, I mean joyously, rapturously enjoying the freedom of letting someone else do the cooking every night.

Er. . . I mean, ah, forced to eat out because that stuff can be bad for you on a constant basis, yeah, dear? Sweetie? She Who Must Be Given Her Fresh Veggies Or She Gets Quite Cross?

Anyway.

The other night I got the urge to do some cooking. Unfortunately, the only cooking appliances we have at the moment are an oven and a microwave. So I sat down and did a little thinking. Yes, it hurt. Why do you ask? I did some thinking.

I wanted to do a pasta, but I didn’t have a stove so I couldn’t do any boiling. I wanted to have some meat, but I didn’t have a stove so I couldn’t do any browning at all. And then inspiration hit me. After I chased inspiration down and hit the dude right back, I got to work. Here’s my recipe for Meatball Lasagna.

Here’s what you’ll need.

1 28-oz bag of frozen turkey meatballs
1 15-oz container of Ricotta cheese
2 two-cup packages of mozzarella cheese, shredded
2 bottles spaghetti sauce
no-boil lasagna noodles

Set out the meatballs so they can be unfrozen and at room temperature when you’re ready to start cooking. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

While the oven is preheating, cut the meatballs into halves or quarters. It’s up to you. Put the cut meatballs into a gallon-sized zip loc bag. Pour in the spaghetti sauce from one of the jars.

In a second gallon-sized zip loc bag, combine one package of the mozzarella cheese and the Ricotta cheese. In the bag, mush them together until they’re thoroughly combined.

Take out a 9×12 baking pan and coat the bottom and sides with non-stick cooking spray. Using the second jar of spaghetti sauce, put about a cup spread on the bottom of the pan. Then start layering. Put down the no-boil lasagna noodles. Then about a third of the cheese and then a third of the meatball mix. Repeat.

When you get to the end of all ingredients, then pour on the remaining sauce and top with about 1 cup of mozzarella cheese. Tightly cover the pan with aluminum foil and place into the oven.

Bake for between 50 and 60 minutes. Take the foil off and then bake for another five minutes.

Once that’s done, set the lasagna out to let it cool and set for another five minutes and you’re good to go.

Enjoy, dudes!

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