HOW CANNABIS WORKS

The date is 4/20, which evidently has some numerological significance to hopheads. As different states loosen their laws regarding cannabis and medical marijuana is no longer just a pipedream, it's worth casting a sober eye toward the actual chemistry of cannabis. Of course, that's hard to do, since we've been raised in a moralistic culture with a love/hate relationship to drugs. We condemn drugs and lump them all together--from pot to heroin, methamphetamines to barbiturates--yet we joyously consume alcohol like it's going out of style, smoke cigarettes, pop Vicodin and Valium and various other prescription pharmaceuticals. Alcohol is a social lubricant, and to believe the advertisements it will make you carefree and clever and popular with the opposite sex. It relieves stress. It calms the nerves. It's legal and available and very sophisticated.

But there's a downside to this depressant. Alcohol is responsible for over 100,000 deaths each year. By comparison, there are virtually no marijuana-related deaths according to the health department. That doesn't mean you should suddenly start smoking bales of pot, but it's good to put booze, a legally-sanctioned, socially-acceptable drug, into perspective.

# 5% of all deaths from diseases of the circulatory system are attributed to alcohol.
# 15% of all deaths from diseases of the respiratory system are attributed to alcohol.
# 30% of all deaths from accidents caused by fire and flames are attributed to alcohol.
# 30% of all accidental drownings are attributed to alcohol.
# 30% of all suicides are attributed to alcohol.
# 40% of all deaths due to accidental falls are attributed to alcohol.
# 45% of all deaths in automobile accidents are attributed to alcohol.
# 60% of all homicides are attributed to alcohol.

(Sources: NIDA Report, the Scientific American and Addiction Research Foundation of Ontario.) Also see Alcohol Consumption and Mortality, Alcohol poisoning deaths, CDC report)

HAVING FUN, WISH YOU WERE HERE

You might look at these grizzled old geezers and not realize what dangerous men they were in their youth. That's the catch with getting older. The arrogant, plugged-in bastards with their ergonomic Bluetooth earpieces and their designer business-casual attire might pass them by on the street without a thought, but these oldtimers once caused empires to tremble and brought forth great gales of solar fire and mind-warping electricity. Once they were Pink Floyd. Oh, I suppose they still are, but time has its tricks to play. Caught between Scylla & Charybdis, as pleasure boats drift past unaware, these former pirates are still howling into the hurricane. Softly. It may seem a bit dated now, at least to the stylishly modern listeners who have moved on to electro-poetic, radio-friendly pop confections. Nowadays, who wants to be reminded they traded in their heroes for ghosts? The people want to be entertained, after all. Dim the lights so they can slip into the darkness where it's less dangerous. For the others, the happy few who remember a time before we all became comfortably numb, here's a little song from the past. By the way, we're having fun. Wish you were here.



So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
Blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
And cold comfort for change?
Did you exchange
A walk on part in the war,
For a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

THE OWLS ARE NOT WHAT THEY SEEM

We've been so serious lately, maybe something funny is in order. This week we've been under the weather (an odd phrase) and we've been watching Twin Peaks, the classic David Lynch TV series that aired over twenty years ago. The show is still very strange and humorous, with Special Agent Cooper and Company collecting clues and solving mysteries in a topsy-turvy, neo- noirish Pacific Northwest world not unlike the woods outside my door. The show was filmed not far from here, actually, in the mountains around North Bend where the cafe still serves damn fine coffee and pie and Snoqualmie Falls still spills mistily into the drink--just like it does the opening credits. Yes, there is something weird in those woods--but locals have known that for years. The fog rolls in and the Douglas firs reach through it toward overcast skies and anything can happen. The rain doesn't let up, and people lock themselves in for a season. The weather is relentless and highly conducive to mystery and mildew. Things get spooky. And that's just normal around here. We locals are a tough breed, and we develop indoor hobbies and take our Vitamin D. This isn't Phoenix, after all, and I mean that in ways beyond the weather. We read and write and make music and art--and some of us backpack and kayak and explore the lakes and mountains and deep, dark woods. Contrary to TV shows made in LA, Northwesterners don't really obsess about coffee and we don't cover ourselves head-to-toe in designer Gore-Tex and expensive raingear: those folks are tourists. For us, flannel and boots are good enough. After all, it's just rain. But Twin Peaks somehow gets it right. Lynch is an LA cat himself, but he was born in Montana and maybe he internalized the NW quirkiness. Or maybe he was just sensitive to the beauty and strangeness of the misty woods. Either way, for more Northwest weirdness, check out Twin Peaks. And remember: the owls are not what they seem.



Good news: Twin Peaks is on Netflix Instant-Streaming, so if you've got Netflix (and you're a fool if you don't) you can watch it for free on your computer, or better yet through a Roku box in high resolution on your TV. This isn't a plug, but it's money well spent--and not much at all. The Roku is a one-time purchase and minimal Netflix is down to $7.99 a month. It makes good sense.

BEYOND GOOD AND EVIL

"There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy."
~ Albert Camus, 1955, The Myth of Sisyphus: And Other Essays, p. 3

"I would say that our patients never really despair because of any suffering in itself! Instead, their despair stems in each instance from a doubt as to whether suffering is meaningful. Man is ready and willing to shoulder any suffering as soon and as long as he can see a meaning in it."
~ Viktor Frankl, 1961, Logotherapy and the Challenge of Suffering,
In Review of Existential Psychology and Psychiatry, Volume 1, p. 5

And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.
~ Friedrich Nietzsche

The existentialists could really clear a room. Not exactly cheery bastards, you probably wouldn't invite most of them over for dinner. Okay, Camus I'd have over. And maybe Sartre. We could always have fun hiding his glasses. But Nietzsche? Forget it. He thought he was beyond good and evil and he'd stuff his pockets with your silverware. He'd never bring anything. The rules didn't apply to the Superman, after all, and the cranky old nutter would drink all your booze and probably rifle through your medicine cabinet for drugs. He could've used some drugs, actually--If only anti-depressants had been invented back then a huge swath of philosophy would have been wiped out. Same with the others. To hear them whining, you'd think abandoning the comforts of God in the face of chaos was something to complain about. Crybabies!

Then again, maybe the existentialists were just ahead of their time. Maybe we've finally caught up with them. Depression seems to be the order of the day. Look around. The world is in flames, war is raging, earthquakes and tsunamis rock our foundations, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. Depression might be the appropriate response. We're all going to hell in a shrimpboat, so stop rearranging the deck chairs and get depressed!

Fooled you, didn't I? What's the matter, Bunky? Can't tough it out? Nobody said this would be easy and now you're moping around in a bathrobe and slippers like somebody just shot your dog. Buck up. Lots of people had it worse than you and they never said a word. They just grew ulcers. I'm not suggesting simple stoicism--which is basically the flipside of the self-involved coin. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and go outside and smell the goddamn flowers. The best revenge against death--and isn't that the underlying fear of all fears, the root problem of all trivial problems?--the best revenge against death is living, really living. Don't fall for empty peptalk--that's not what I'm saying--but get out of your shell and connect with people, real people, and recognize that they, too, are experiencing such an onslaught. Connect! Regardless of what Nietzsche may have told you, you're nobody special. At the risk of seeming ridiculous, therein lies the key.

Friedrich Nietzsche, the cranky old soup-strainer stayed home a lot

If you're still filled with existential dread this rare expressionistic cartoon may cheer you up. That's the voice of Peter Lorre (from the Fritz Lang classic, "M") with music by Andy Prieboy, and of course the cartoon is Quickdraw McGraw. The whole mash-up was envisioned by Merril Markoe. Brilliant.

2 FRANKIES

SPUNTINO
(spoon'tîno), noun:
An informal meal or a snack; also, a casual Italian eatery.

My favorite cookbook this year is "The Frankies Spuntino--Kitchen Companion & Cooking Manual" by Frank Falcinelli and Frank Castronovo. After years of working in professional kitchens, they wanted to return to the Italian-American cuisine they'd grown up on, "back when every Sunday meant a visit to Grandma's house and a huge spread of the Sunday Sauce."

So they started a tiny Italian restaurant in "a tin-ceilinged old tenement building" in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn. This wasn't the gimmicky approach with the checkered tablecloths and the kitschy pictures on the wall--this was the real deal and they delivered the food they loved since childhood. It was a hit. After a while they opened another spot on the Lower East Side, another tiny place. My parents, two very good cooks in their own right, ate there last week and gave it two thumbs up. Dad said it may have been the best Cavatelli he's ever had--and Dad knows Cavatelli. The recipe is in the book.

The cookbook captures the down home feeling of good homemade Italian cooking and reminds me of those Sundays at Grandma's, too. I suggest you buy the book, and check out the Frankies' website and menu.

MUFFALETTA

Our tribute to great sandwiches continues with the Muffaletta, the New Orleans classic that started at the Central Grocery. Maria Lupo Tusa, daughter of the Central Grocery's founder, traced the origin of the sandwich in her 1980 cookbook, Marie's Melting Pot:

One of the most interesting aspects of my father's grocery is his unique creation, the muffuletta sandwich. The muffuletta was created in the early 1900's when the Farmers' Market was in the same area as the grocery. Most of the farmers who sold their produce there were Sicilian. Every day they used to come of my father's grocery for lunch. They would order some salami, some ham, a piece of cheese, a little olive salad, and either long braided Italian bread or round muffuletta bread. In typical Sicilian fashion they ate everything separately. The farmers used to sit on crates or barrels and try to eat while precariously balancing their small trays covered with food on their knees. My father suggested that it would be easier for the farmers if he cut the bread and put everything on it like a sandwich; even if it was not typical Sicilian fashion. He experimented and found that the thicker, braided Italian bread was too hard to bite but the softer round muffuletta was ideal for his sandwich. In very little time, the farmers came to merely ask for a "muffuletta" for their lunch.

However you pronounce it--and they do in various ways--the sandwich is a monster of delicious Italian coldcuts and olive salad on a massive roll. If you ever make it to New Orleans, head over to the Central Grocery on Decatur in the French Quarter and get in line, where it all began. Or make one yourself. Renowned New Orleans Chef Paul Prudhomme, who serves as an unofficial ambassador the the city (and serves as a reminder that we all eat salad once in a while) shows how to assemble this classic sandwich. Mangia bene, y'all.

UNBROKEN

Louis Zamperini lived an incredible life. The son of Italian immigrants, he spoke little English when he started school so bullies picked on him--at least until his father taught him how to box. Louis had a knack for petty crime and became a first-rate juvenile delinquent, getting into trouble constantly until his brother Pete (pictured below, Pete on the right) encouraged him to straighten up. Pete ran track, and suggested Louis try running, too. Louis surpassed his brother and became a star, breaking records and running for gold in the 1936 Olympics--where he actually met Hitler.

Then World War II broke out, and Louis became a bombardier on a B-24 in the Pacific. His plane was shot down, and he survived with two others on a small rubber raft for 47 days surrounded by hungry sharks. They finally floated ashore, only to be captured by the Japanese and thrown into a hellish POW camp where they were starved and tortured. Knowing who Louis was, the Japanese refused to release Louis' name to the Red Cross, so the military--and his family--never knew he'd survived. After a year, his official status was changed from MIA to KIA. Meanwhile, the lives of the POWs was a living hell. Worse for Louis, the sadistic head of the guards singled him out for particularly brutal treatment. The guard, nicknamed "The Bird" by the prisoners, was bent on breaking Louis' mind and spirit. The torment escalated, and despite being near death, Louis refused to be broken.



For more about Louis Zamperini, read the excellent biography, "Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption," by Laura Hillenbrand. For part three of this video, click here. Part four is here.