Hamburger Helper Potatoes Stroganoff

You will need:

1 lb. hamburger meat

1¼ cups milk

2 cups hot water

Directions:

Brown hamburger meat in 10-inch skillet; drain.

Stir in milk, hot water, Sauce Mix and uncooked Potatoes.

Heat to boiling, stirring occasionally.

Reduce heat; cover and simmer about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until potatoes are tender.

Remove from heat and uncover (sauce will thicken as it stands).

When I set out on assignment, I considered doing some “from the road” reports, in the spirit of Where Dave Is. Unfortunately, my sober adventures don’t lend themselves to much regaling. To the extent that they can be immortalized, I’ve already attempted to do so for my Sunday SJ-R column. Be sure to look for it.

Well, that’s it for me, then. Here’s to cooler days and better fair attendance.

Hey there hot chicks who are suckers for any dork with a guitar.
Are the Plain White Ts the James Blunt of 2007? If the speed at which I change the radio station the moment I hear “hey there Deli. . .” is any indication, they’re well on their way. The Ts have little hope of attaining a level of insipidness that would equal Blunt at his snivelingest, but radio program directors seem determined to take them there. Russ is probably big into them.

Shut the f*** up, Donny!
I finally got around to rewatching the Big Lebowski last night. I’d forgotten that Aimee Mann has a bit part, playing one of Flea’s drug addict companions. Just one more reason that the Coen brothers are the coolest directors/producers in Hollywood. Can anyone boast of an oeuvre the equal of theirs: Fargo, Miller’s Crossing, Raising Arizona, the Hudsucker Proxy, O’ Brother, Where Art Thou?, the Big Lebowski? Even some of their lesser-to-me works such as Barton Fink and the Man Who Wasn’t There only lag behind because of the greatness I’ve been conditioned to expect when a film carries the Coen banner. What do you think John Goodman would rather be remember by, his adaptation of Fred Flintstone, or his star turns as Walter Sobchak and Big Dan Teague?

Record store? What’s a record store?
I’m looking for a couple of songs that iTunes doesn’t stock. If you know of any channels through which they might be procured, please let me know.

Making Time by Creation – iTunes has a version of it by The Creation, which sounds like an updated version by a revamped lineup of the band; I’m sure Wikipedia could tell me for sure. But I want the version as heard in the movie Rushmore, during the montage which introduces viewers to Max Fischer’s propensity for joining school-sponsored extracurricular clubs. A cool song in a great movie.

Seven Year Ache by Roseanne Cash – This was a big radio hit back in the 80s and might qualify as a guilty pleasure if not for the legitimacy of the Cash appellation. With all due respect to Trisha Yearwood, I prefer the original.

Everybody’s Got to Learn Sometimes as performed by Beck – This was originally recorded by something called the Korgis. I prefer Beck’s rendition only because it is ingrained in my brain after repeated viewings of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I can’t seem to wipe it out of my memory (Get it? If you’ve seen the movie you do. It’s still not that funny though, I suppose.) Anyway, iTunes won’t part with this little gem unless you shell out for the entire soundtrack. What is this, the nineties?

I did download one song on iTunes today. Driving home from church I had the pleasure of listening to Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris do a cover of Boudleaux Bryant’s Love Hurts. It’s not as guttural-sounding as the Nazareth version, but it probably also hasn’t been swayed to as much at high school proms. It’s quite a pleasurable listen. The surprising part of this discovery is that I didn’t hear it on WQNA, but rather, on Alice. On Sunday mornings they apparently take a break from playing the Plain White Ts and spin some rootsy acoustic records.

I Love You, Beth Cooper
This is one funny book. If you’re a fan of John Hughes movies, you’ll love this story written by Larry Doyle, a former writer for the Simpsons. I’m only halfway throught it, but I’m already prepared to give it my full endorsement.

Speaking of books, my SJ-R column last week was on how being well-read is not as valued as it once was (not that Beth Cooper qualifies as literature.) My thesis is that in today’s fast-paced, instant information age, people don’t have time to curl up with a good book, and don’t see the benefit in doing so. I bemoan this turn of events.

Oh well, thanks for slumming.

Anyway, I took the challenge and found it quite cathartic, despite the potential derision I might face now that my passive Bread fetish is on public record.

I encourage you to wash away your guilt by going there and confessing to your most sordid musical dalliances. The truth will set you free. Unless, of course, you have a secret crush on the Winger discography, in which case you’ll be mercilessly and rightfully ridiculed.