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Or so the story goes. There is actually no physical evidence to prove that said squirrel was living on a diet of nuts and meth–only that it’s owner had a pot full of meth in his possession. Said owner was an ex-felon and probable future felon, as the pending charges against him are the following–possession of stolen property and a weapon, various other weapons charges, child endangerment, trafficking meth, and worst of all, possession of a wild animal.

Going to the slammer for squirrel possession will not get him much mileage with his fellow inmates, unless he confesses that he actually had a meth-charged trained attack squirrel. He originally gained attention from the authorities in northern Alabama because neighbors said he was keeping a squirrel that was aggressive toward people. I personally think that the squirrel was letting out a cry for help.

At any rate, the official story is the following. The police department that raided the house of said alleged meth head released this statement: “There was no safe way to test the squirrel for meth.” This information comes from AL.Com. Therefore the beast was set loose in the woods. Currently, the whereabouts of the squirrel are unknown, so watch your back when you go outside..

This has a food angle to it, so I thought I should write about it. I was in NYC for job interviews, and was really hungry. I checked out the yellow pages for food tours, and some of the most popular were soul food tours of Harlem, complete with fried chicken and collard greens. As I had eaten both of those the day before I left Alabama, I said, “What the hell is this?” I had pizza instead.

Then came the great interview for a job at Connecticut State University as a Professor of African-American Literature. When I walked into the interview room, it was more than obvious that the interview committee thought I was Black, as a Southern PhD who had written widely about African-American writers. I’m the whitest guy, genetically, that you know. I just do love a great writer, and some good soul food, but we cook the soul food ourselves.

The interview was crash and burn, but entertaining. I was asked if black students would question me about me teaching black writers (none ever has), and I responded that the knowledge of literay texts is not genetic–you learn it or not. That logical answer got me nowhere.

Alas, I am in the warm South now instead of the frigid Northeast. We may have an epidemic of stupid down here, but we know good food. If you know better than that, let me know. I’ll give you a job interview.

Time to cut straight to the issue–the oil content of three of the most common drying oils. This information comes from the scholarly text Painting Materials.

1. Walnut Oil–63-65%
2. Sunflower Seed Oil–50%
3. Linseed Oil–35-40%

And yet Linseed Oil is the most commonly used. Why?

Linseed Oil

To answer the question–tradition and availability. All these oils have a single molecular bond, which means they dry into a polymer when oxidized–i.e., when they are exposed to air (O2). Of the natural oils, only Tung oil has a double molecular bond, which makes it the most waterproof natural finish.

However, when heated for a long period of time, these natural oils form a double molecular bind, which means they dry faster, and become a durable polymerized surface. Heated linseed oil is often sold as “Danish” oil, which is a meaningless term that is used for all kinds of oil finishes.

Raw Linseed oil is a trendy diet item as well, sold as flaxseed oil. This has a very short shelf life, so treat it accordingly. You could just boil it and put it on your dining room table.

“Boiled” Linseed oil is just cheap Linseed oil with a bunch of toxic chemical dryers added. It makes a nice enough finish, and makes a very good base for an exterior paint, which is what I use it for. I don’t use it in any living area, but that could just be overly fastidious me.

Linseed oil , or Stand oil, sold to the art crowd (to make oil paint) is extremely high quality thickened oil, and is very expensive. No wonder a Van Gogh costs so much.

Sunflower Seed Oil

This is on my old Oak dining room table, which belonged to my grandmother, so the table has been around for awhile–she was born in the nineteenth century. This oil is cheap, durable, and dries fast. In fact, it is barely a fraction of the cost of a high quality Linseed oil. If you want to spend more for Linseed oil, just think that it is only money.

Walnut Oil

I loves me some Walnut oil. Expensive, yes, but it smells great and also tastes great. I keep mine in the frigernator to make it last longer. It also makes a superior base for a wax finish. It was also allegedly the secret ingredient for many of the old master painters

Making a Drying Oil

Any of these oils can be thickened using the old “stand” method of drying oils, which is leaving them out in the summer sun. In short, they stand out in the sun, which is quite intense here in the South. The danger is having the oil turn rancid, which could also explain the popularity of Linseed oil–less oil content means a lower chance of spoilage.

Which brings me to all the woodworking folks on the internet who insist that all natural oils turn rancid. These are drying oils, dopes. Olive oil isn’t, as with many cooking oils. The reason that the Louvre and the Uffizi galleries don’t stink is that the paintings were made with drying oils. More than a few were painted with tempera paint, which was often made with eggs as well. See how tough a dried egg yolk is sometimes.

Just because many people are saying something stupid doesn’t make it true. The great English woodworker Robin Wood (magnificent name, btw) pointed out that buying an expensive synthetic finish is illogical, when natural finishes are traditional, abundant, and less expensive–not to mention food safe and totally non-toxic. However, if someone admires the skull and cross-bones on the label, they should go for it. See who turns rancid first.

My one encounter with authentic gypsies (Romani) was in a convenience store in Tuscaloosa, back when Melanie Jane and I were both students at UA. Whenever I finished teaching a writing class, and was walking back to our apartment on Reid Street, I would stop by this hole in the wall store named Charles and Company, and would stop and buy us a treat–a bag of M&Ms. The checkout guy got so used to me buying the same thing everyday that he would have it rung up on the register before I even got there.

This particular day was challenging. By the time I got to the M&Ms department, the tiny store was full of women–Gypsy women. I guessed there were about twenty of them, and the leader of the group was a strikingly attractive young Romani woman, who was all up in the cashier’s face, waving dollar bills in the air and yelling “Marlboro! Marlboro! Marlboro!” That was enough to distract any young man. By the time the guy was finally able to find the sufficient packs of Marlboros to satisfy her, the other ladies had walked off with a decent percentage of the inventory. When I got to the checkout, I thought the dude was going to cry.

As per usual for a Graduate student, I had just enough cash to pay for the M&Ms. I was still wondering how to relay this info to MJ, when I got to our third floor apartment. Our radio was tuned to a local station that was appropriately crappy for a college town, and as soon as I walked in the door, the DJ said, and I am not making this up, “Emergency warning–a Gypsy alert has been issued for the City of Tuscaloosa. Repeat–a Gypsy alert has been issued for Tuscaloosa. Be on the look out for packs of Gypsies.”

Packs? Wolves, maybe? All I could do was laugh, and share my pack of M&Ms. I barely resisted calling the cops, and telling them that all I had seen were packs of Marlboros.

If you want to start an argument, ask who is the comic GOAT (greatest of all time). Evidence submitted: Richard Pryor. As comedy fans know, Pryor once set himself on fire while free-basing cocaine. His response was to turn it it into a comedy routine involving milk and cookies.

Let me tell you what really happened… Every night before I go to bed, I have milk and cookies. One night I mixed some low-fat milk and some pasteurized, then I dipped my cookie in and the shit blew up.

Richard Pryor

He had a zinger to finish this bit:

I’m not addicted to coke, i just love the way it smells

Richard Pryor

Pure genius.

Because everyone needs a piece of kitchen furniture in their living room, our new rolling cart currently lives in there. Its original home was the bathroom, an even stranger place for kitchen furniture. It didn’t stay there long before it was put to use.

The design is very loosely based on a piece that is being sold by an Amish furniture shop. I made it more complicated than necessary, as it ended up with about twenty different parts. However, all those parts make it incredibly sturdy. The wheels roll so well I’m thinking about entering it in the next Talladega 500.

The first time we used it it worked a a portable table that was covered in pizza makings. Next week it turns into a corporate cart, as Melaine has to organize a whole series of conference calls, and needs the extra workspace. It should be able to take the abuse–the finish is a no VOC water based polyurethane, hard enough to be used on gym floors. Over that is an equally hard floor polish. Corporate America is on notice.

Thomas Jefferson, during his travels through Europe, found the Dutch to be the most prosperous people there, unlike France, and the kingdoms of Germany, where the hated aristocracy hogged up all the cash. They have proved it once again, by having the world’s first floating dairy farm in Rotterdam. They are so clever, as are the journalists of Agence France-Presse, who reported this story.

Talk about vertical integration, and this barge has it. Three stories, with the dairy cows on the top. The middle floor is for cheese, yogurt, and butter making. The bottom floor is to age the cheese. The whole thing goes up and down with the tide, though the owners say that the cows don’t get sea sick.

It only gets better. The cows eat surplus food, such as leftover grapes, grass clippings, and barley from a brewery. No commercial feed needed. The cow stuff becomes pelletized fertilizer, and the cow pee is recycled, astronaut style, into drinking water. The inputs are miniscule.

The Dutch government thought the farmers who came up with this idea were crazy. What they were was crazy smart.