I'm Sorry Frederic Weis

It all started on June 30, 1999, a day that will live in infamy. A short, bespectacled Jewish guy stepped up to a microphone somewhere and dropped the following: “With the 15^th pick in the 1999 NBA Draft the New York Knickerbockers select Frederic Weis, from France.”  Little did David Stern know that with those words he would put in motion such a series of unfortunate events that 16 years later still sting the heart of many a hoops fan. 

On that day in 1999 Frederic Weis was a 7’2” French dude that I am sure was pretty good at basketball.  But fickle New York sports fans had never heard of this French fella  and wanted someone else.  So they did what New Yorkers do when they are unhappy; they booed.  And booed, and booed.  And when the next pick by Indiana was Queens native Ron Artest/ Metta World Peace/ The Panda's Friend (it's basketball not rocket science), they went nuts.  Never mind that they missed out on NBA great Manu Ginobli who was picked later by the Spurs.  At that point Fred’s only hope was that he would turn into the reincarnation of Patrick Ewing.

Oh yeah and then this happened!  OUCH!

Yes ladies and gentleman you just watched probably the greatest dunk in the history of hoops (if you did not click on the link this is going to be tough sledding).  And who, pray tell, is Vince Carter posterizing in that year 2000 Olympic game?  Yes you guessed it, Mr Frederic!  No folks you do not need to set up an appointment with your optometrist; Carter did hurdle a seven footer, even if he did duck a little.  The French media dubbed that throw down “Le Dunk De La Mort “which around here translates to “The Dunk of Death.” Bad ass huh? What it did do besides making James Naismith roll over in his grave, was to kill Fred’s chances of an NBA career.  So Weis stayed in France and played 16 years in leagues there in what turned out to be a pretty respectable career, by French standards.  And we Knicks fans and everyone else kept watching Vince take his lunch money on YouTube and bemoaning the fact that the team drafted him in the first place.

Well this summer an article appeared on NYTimes.com ( nytimes.com-frederic-weis) that gave me pause.  In summary Fred is human, albeit a very large one.  He battled alcoholism and depression and ended up taking a whole bottle of sleeping pills one day at a rest stop.  His son was diagnosed with autism which was very tough on him and his wife.  Oh and he owns a cigarette store, no joke.  What, the “Dunk of Death” wasn’t enough suffering for one lifetime?

Maybe it’s the injustice collector in me but I am beginning to develop a soft spot for Mr. Weis. 

Infamy is a bitch!  And sixteen years of infamy is long enough for any man to endure. So today I want to offer a mea culpa of sorts for my behavior toward the big Frenchman.  After all they say that time heals all wounds (it doesn't) so why not give the guy a break?  It's time for me and the rest of  the Knicks Nation to move on.

Frederic, I am sorry for booing when you got drafted ahead of Crazy Ron. And for having a few pops and getting into arguments about the greatest dunks of all time; which always ended in endless replays of your schooling at the hands of Vince.  It sounds like your life has ended up OK in spite of your personal demons and family struggles.  I am glad for that and wish you luck!  You never would have turned out to be the next Ewing so maybe it was all for the best.  We Knicks fans have booed a lot of terrible drafts and sorry teams in the last 16 years since your day.  Maybe we are cursed by our anti-Fred hysteria.  After all, 1999 was the last year the Knickerbockers made it to the finals.  Frederic Weis 1- New York 0!

Poverty Porn

Each afternoon the alternative rock station in our fair city plays a comedic bit called Nerf's LOL at 5:05. Usually they are short skits like a mock add for The Donald's "presidential campaign" or what it's like to be a French guy on Cinco De Mayo (podcast-lols-at-505-channel933).  Lately, however, they have been running a series entitled First World Problems.  In one piece someone is complaining about something like wanting to send a text at a red light, but getting all the green lights.  Or pouring a bowl of cereal before realizing that you are out of milk.  My favorite is having too big a hand to fit inside a Pringles can, thus having to tip the can which spills crumbs that the maid has to clean up.  I end up annoying those around me by reciting especially good ones and then laughing like a hyena. What's so great about these tiny snapshots of funny is how close to home they hit for most of us. In fact just today I got irritated with the lady at Chipotle for not putting enough beans in my bowl. Pitiful!

Today on the show I want to explore the topic of poverty in relation to how we first world folks consume it.  The phrase "poverty porn" has a tendency to hit like a backhand to the face.  Probably mostly for the obvious reason that it includes the word porn, but in a much deeper way once you begin to understand its implications.  I don't know who came up with the term, I having first seen in on Appalachian photographer Roger May's twitter timeline.  Basically it means using imagery of poverty to enrich yourself of your company, or to boost charitable activity. Some say a good current example of just that is the CBS realty show "The Briefcase."  The premise is that two struggling American families are each given one hundred grand and then told they can keep it or give some of it to this other family that has problems of its own.  So they agonize over the decision for our entertainment until the finale at which time both families are brought together and "revealed" to each other. All I had to see was a trailer for that crap to call it poverty porn.  Using others misfortune for ratings is lame CBS, don't watch!

In the last couple weeks I have seen three different pieces of media that highlight the ongoing debate about how poverty is portrayed to us, the masses.  The first is a photo essay by  Bruce Gilden that appeared on Vice.com entitled "Two Days in Appalachia",vice.com/read/two-days-in-appalachia.  One look at Mr.  Gilden's “work” and you will see why the reaction to it has been swift and negative.  It appears that old Bruce spent his two days looking for as many fat, ugly and/or disabled folks he could find to prop up the stereo types about mountain people.  Honestly I thought we had stopped doing that sometime in the 1960s.  Go ahead and take a look at the piece if only to see what passes for photo journalism.  Not to mention that one of the nicest men I have ever met, the guy rocking the sweet Anthony Davis unibrow somehow made it into the lineup.  Roy works at the local plumbing supply house in Isom, KY and always made my visits there a joy. Hey Roy loves him some UK basketball is all. Oh and Bruce Gliden, go to your room!  Definitely Poverty Porn!

The next item is the documentary “Rich Hill”.  The doc follows the lives of three boys growing up in the small town of Rich Hill, Missouri.  Made by a brother and sister team from that area the movie does a good job capturing the chaos and struggle that growing up in poverty can be.  Unfortunately, watching it is a lot like watching a car crash over and over again.  It’s a continuous stream of terrible parenting, crappy housing, mental illness, neglect and abandonment.  You’re rooting for the kids even though you know they or adults around them are going keep making a mess of life.

I don’t believe that Rich Hill was made with bad motives, or to raise money for a particular cause.  However its effect on the viewer has that rubber necking on the freeway feeling.  You can't turn away even though you know there is going to be carnage.  I am not sure what to do with a story like this.  On the one hand it needs to be told, but on the other watching it on your couch at home feels a little like I imagine going to the Coliseum to see the gladiators was like.  And of course we Americans with our soft hearts try to assuage our gilt for watching it by throwing money at the kids.  That is a topic for another day but suffice to say that is something I have mixed feelings about.  Unintended Poverty Porn.

Have you ever binge watched documentaries? The same night I watched Rich Hill I also watched “On The Way To School.”  This documentary details the challenge four sets of kids face just getting to school each day.  One is a girl in Morocco that hikes 22 kilometers on a mountain trail with her friends each week to the nearest village, only to have to catch a ride with strange men and goats from there to a boarding school.  Others ride horses something like 11 miles in Patagonia each day or walk many miles through dangerous African savannas for the chance to learn. Not to mention the two little Indian boys that drag their disabled brother in a lawn chair turned wheel chair two miles every morning.  Netflix it people!

Honestly I think I cried a little watching "On The Way To School."  It is beautiful and powerful to see kids make such sacrifices to learn.  If you're a bleeding heart, then this movie is right in your wheel house.  Yes to some degree it is poverty porn because watching American kids ride the bus for two hours isn't all that interesting.  But I honestly think that the film makers wanted to tell a story that most of us have no idea about.  Yes of course the kids are now showing up at Cannes at the films premier rocking leather coats, and I am sure the kid with the crappy wheel chair has a rubber tracked motorized ride to school these days.  Oh how I want to pass judgment on those who think they can fix these stories and potentially ruin something hard but beautiful. But when you see those Moroccan girls get in a truck with scary dudes and a bunch of goats its hard to argue with them.  Not Poverty Porn, but check yourselves injustice collectors.

The problem with me yelling too loudly about this topic is that I am a contributor to it.  Hell one of the reasons we moved to Kentucky was the PBS show "Country Boys" about two kids growing up in Pike County.  Think car crash meets train wreck.  And I am guilty of telling stories or taking friends who visited there passed houses with open sewers running down the hill or hundreds of caged fighting chickens in cages in the front yard.  Was I really using others misfortune as entertainment for my friends, or to justify why I moved to Appalachia?

 Let's face it, Poverty Porn is here to stay in part because it's a good vehicle to raise money and awareness for dire causes around the world.  What is not cool is when it's used to make money for media outlets or when the Red Cross pulled that card and then managed to blow half a billion in Haiti and build six homes npr.org in-search-of-the-red-cross-500-million-in-haiti-relief.  What is also not cool is to watch Honey Boo Boo people.

Cookin' with Uncle Marv- 'Merica Edition

As you can imagine, I didn't grow up in a very patriotic environment.  We did enjoy our fair share of the local fireworks scene, but I don't remember hot dogs, tater salad, watermelon and Budweisers being part of our 4th of July.  But don't worry folk, I am going to make amends for all that lack of flag waving in one day, actually in one meal.  You see we have a kid that works for our family construction business from Moorhead, Minnesota, a stones throw from Fargo (shout out to Trevor and Katy).  Now what could be more middle America or more of a place with tractors in the parade than Fargo?  And what could be a better dish to make on the 4th that can better capture that good old glory than Tater Tot Hot Dish?  The subject came up around lunch time one day last week as we toiled.  "You had me at Tater Tots" was all I could say as he recounted his youthful family dinners.

FYI,  I just found out that Tater Tot Hot Dish is a favorite of The Duggars.  Wow this keeps getting better and better!

 As usual on these cooking episodes I will not be sharing a specific recipe.  That is in part because I didn't follow one, and because there are about one hundred variations on this all American dish and ya'll have phones to look up your favorite anyway.

Shopping

It turns out that shopping for the right ingredients for a good TTHD is a critical step in the cooking processes. So I, rocking my American made hat, drove my American made truck the two blocks         (walking on the 4th? please!) to my local Safeway to stock up.  By the way, if you want to see a lot of people wearing clothes they wouldn't dare to wear any other day of the year then July 4th is that day. Anyway, my first stop was the frozen food section for the star of the dish, Tater Tots.  What I was not prepared for was the sheer volume and variety of frozen potato products available.  I stood there with the freezer door open overwhelmed by all the tots, knockoff tots, fries, flavored fries, au gratin, potato pancakes, and hash browns.  Then feeling guilty I closed the door which immediately fogged up rendering my search nearly impossible.  Eventually I found a couple bags of sweet potato tots to my liking and moved on to the meat department.  The sweet potato tots should be enough of a hint that my TTHD was was going to buck the traditional trends.  And my choice of Italian sausage instead of hamburger said that loud and clear.  Don't worry, to counteract my un-American choices I chose to add frozen corn and green beans to the dish.  What's more American than frozen corn?  

Drinking

The second tenet of Cookin' around here besides not using a recipe is that booze is always a part of the culinary adventure.  It being the 4th made it a prime day for cheep beer but the old gluten allergy put that idea to bed.  Instead the drink of choice was the pride of Bardstown, KY, Evan Williams Kentucky Bourbon, and Sprite.  Corn liquor and corn syrup, very American!

The final piece to the prep stage of TTHD was me dragging the laptop into the kitchen and getting a good pirated feed of my beloved Mets dueling the Dodgers on the tube.  Yes I said pirated, which is not patriotic, but that was made up for by both teams wearing hideous stars and stripes hats and jerseys.

Cookin'

The great thing about making a good Middle States casserole (aka hot dish), is that it's so easy! Basically you brown the meat and onions, layer that in a glass dish along with the corn and beans, and add the one ingredient synonymous with every good creation: cream of mushroom soup.  You could probably put a pair of old boots in a casserole dish and add cream of mushroom and it would taste delicious.  But Campbell's has yet to figure out that instead of using flour to thicken their products they could just as easily use corn starch so gluten haters could enjoy boot hot dish with everyone else.  So instead, I added a layer of mushrooms and sour cream to my TTHD and attempted to make a gravy/thickener.  But my "gravy" of drippings and GF flour quickly began to morph into a greasy, bready mess in the pan, so that element had to be abandoned.

The final and most satisfying step to TTHD is the tot part.  Why is it that we love tots so much? Obviously they are a fixture of every good school lunch rotation, but even just opening the bag and layering them on my dish was fun.  The nephews and I got into a "discussion" about whether or not I had gone to Sonic to get them.  Clearly they are not yet old enough for a proper elementary school cafeteria.

Eats

One thing to make clear to you TTHD adventurers out there is that it takes at least an hour to bake. That means you have time for another round of Mr. Williams and quality couch time to complain about the abomination of patriotic baseball uniforms and how the Mets couldn't hit their own way out of a paper bag.  Also note that I briefly set the oven to broil to brown the tots and added cheese to the top right before pulling the dish. (What is more American than cheese on stuff?)

Honestly the TTHD came out of the oven to mixed reviews.  The sweetness of the sweet potato tots and the heat of the Italian sausage made for an interesting combination.  The corn may have pushed the sweetness over the top just a little.  I think regular tots and sausage would have been better, or sweet potato and hamburger.  Let's face it, this meal is a gut bomb anyway you slice it.  I am sure on a cold Fargo winter night it would wrap around you like a winter coat.

Not to worry though, the watermelon milkshakes and fireworks show capped off a good patriotic 4th after all.  My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of eight different types of tater tots.