A sample text widget

Etiam pulvinar consectetur dolor sed malesuada. Ut convallis euismod dolor nec pretium. Nunc ut tristique massa.

Nam sodales mi vitae dolor ullamcorper et vulputate enim accumsan. Morbi orci magna, tincidunt vitae molestie nec, molestie at mi. Nulla nulla lorem, suscipit in posuere in, interdum non magna.

Who's Sari Now?

Regretfully, we announce that The Journal Of Prevarication has been outsourced to India.

While content will continue to originate in Wickenburg, the next edition will be produced and distributed from the Indian state of Abhor.

We are sari for any inconvenience to the 321,000 readers who now use The Journal as global positioning for the soul. (We already have three subscribers in India, two telemarketers and a technical advisor for a digital camera company.) We deplore the greed that causes American corporations to ship jobs overseas. However, outsourcing The Journal is made necessary by rising costs, and by intensely competitive lying from Washington–primarily, but not exclusively, from the White House.

We have an advantage over elected officials, in that we know when we are lying. However, the spin doctors and yes-men who prompt the President outnumber us by approximately 17,000 to one.

One helpful addition to The Journal–a New Year’s gift to you from us–will be a glossary of terms in several of the 18 Hindi dialects commonly spoken in India.

These will be useful when you’re talking on the phone to a person in India–a telemarketer, bill collector, or technical advisor for an American manufacturer: “Did you say ‘pixel,’ or ‘pistol?’ ”

While most phrases will be routine, such as “I didn’t understand what you just said,” one or two will be quite instructive.

Here in Wickenburg, the new year is starting off well. I forgot to fix the black-eyed peas I usually cook on New Year’s Day. They say they bring good luck, and help preserve your memory. I have a wonderful recipe given me by a voodoo princess in LaFourche Parish, LA. I just flat forgot to cook them.

After lunch at a newly-remodeled pizza parlor, we stopped at Ol’ Buck’s Bait & Lobster shop on Wharf Street in Wickenburg and bought a couple of pounds of Hassayampa sand lobsters.

These little critters are about the size of scorpions, so it takes a bunch of them to make a pound. They resemble scorpions, and people who have eaten scorpions say the sand lobsters taste like scorpions.

But they are actually little lobsters. They evolved from lobsters in prehistoric seas which once covered western Maricopa County. This evolution was carefully documented by the late Dick Wick Hall, founder of Salome.

Chinese cooks who worked in mining camps along the Hassayampa River in the 19th century discovered the little lobsters, and learned to tell them apart from scorpions.

We dipped the lobsters in flour, egg batter and cornmeal, then sauteed them in I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter. Delicious.

I won’t say that eating Hassayampa sand lobsters is as lucky as eating black-eyed peas. However, on New Year’s night, I drew four aces on a video poker machine at a Pima cultural center. Miss Ellie and I occasionally go there to help send little Native American kids through medical school.

The most exciting discovery we’ve made lately is another Chinese contribution to our cuisine–even more important than sand lobsters.

We learned lately that it was not Mexicans who invented the avocado delicacy called guacamole. “Guacamole” is commonly mispronounced, because gringos read it as “gwawkamole.” In correct Spanish, “gu” becomes “w.”

The delicacy was actually invented by Chinese chefs in Bisbee, who properly called it “wokamole.”

Last 5 posts by Jim Cook

Comments are closed.