ANATOMY OF A TWO POINT FIVE HOUR WAIT AT THE AIRPORT

I planned to be here at SAN, at 8:30, not 7:08.

It all starts with an early WAKE UP. Plan: 6:00am. Actual: 4:56am. I was showered, dressed and had moved my car moved from a parking spot up the street to a spot directly in front of the Hyatt by the time my iHOME alarm and my CELL phone alarms went off at 6:00.

PS - overnight self parking at the hyatt - $24. Parking on the street - free.

Planned HOTEL DEPARTURE TIME: 7:30am (7:15am for additional allowance). But I'm up and the news on TV is recyling. Sportscenter is out of the question because the Phillies lost yesterday. Let's go... actual departure from the hotel: 6:45. This included 2 attempts by the checkout guy to print a room receipt... still not showing a zero balance. I give up. What will the accounting department say?

I gassed the rental car up last night, so no station stop. San Diego airport is a straight shoot down I-5 from the Hyatt. Still, allowing for rush hour traffic and the expectant rains, I planned for a 30 minute ride to the Enterprise rental car drop off by the Washington street exit - one I've never been to before, I felt the 30 minute allowance was the right number.

Actual time to drive from the Hyatt, complete the drop off, including a brief survey of my satisfaction, be on the shuttle bus and heading toward the airport: 13 minutes.

The rest follows suit. Planned time to shuttle to the airport and CHECK-IN with Southwest: 30 minutes. It took 10 minutes.

So here I am at 7:17am, sitting at Starbucks with a double espresso, typing this. Two and a half hours before my 9:45 flight.

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EPILOG: Obviously, it is a different world now and we plan out our airport trips to allow for the security and other delays. But back in the mid 80s, it was different - and I still look back in disbelief at one incident and that I am a legend for.

I had a 7:00am business flight out of Philly. I left my house a little before 6:00 (I am about 30 minutes from the airport not counting parking). I will say I did not do this on purpose. Making matters worse, traffic was not cooperating and I started taking alternate routes, somehow winding up at Broad and Pattison avenues, in south Philly. If you are from Philly you know where this puts me... not too close to the airport. It was 6:25am.

Ignoring the posted speed limits and a few red lights, I somehow got to the airport and by 6:50, I was in full gallop, running through the terminals to the gate - where they were getting ready to close the door. It was a sweaty few minutes in my seat, but I made the flight.

This is one of the reasons, I allow myself plenty of time these days.

Final note: The mid 80s was also a time before OJ Simpson did the "if the glove don't fit, you must acquit" court scene and was pimping for Hertz. He had a famous commercial where he ran through the airport, conveniently dropping off his car and catching his flight on time. Everyone referred to this as my OJ Simpson moment.

COCONUT LIME PIE

This pie is my answer to the question, 'What is your favorite pie?'

It is unbelievably good. 

It is a pie I first tasted at a restaurant in LaJolla, CA about 20 years ago. The restaurant was called Epizote - after the earthy herb used in certain Latin-American dishes. It was one of the places to be for great Southwest food, and a restaurant I always looked forward to dining at when I traveled to LaJolla for business. Unfortunately, after many great years, the restaurant is no more. It changed owners and devolved into a disappointing mess - before finally having the courage to change names.


But I digress... It was on a beautiful night in February, when I sat on the open air rooftop patio, with a view of the Pacific and with space heaters providing some added warmth, that I applied my Johnson & Johnson expense account to a dinner that started with a top shelf margarita and ended with a slice of coconut lime pie. I didn't know what it was at that time, only that its name sounded good. But after tasting it and calling home to tell my wife how good it was, it became my holy quest to understand what it was I ate - and to find the recipe.

And here it is... This recipe comes not from Epizote, but from Mary Sue Milliken and Susan Feniger, owner chefs of the Border Grill in Santa Monica. I am told the recipe was featured on an episode of their TV show called, Too Hot Tamales, but I did not see it. I firmly believe it is the pie I ate - but if not, who cares. It is as good as I remember the pie to be and it provides the same sweet salvation to me now as I remember receiving at the restaurant some 20 years ago.

So to Mary Sue and Susan, I toast you! And want to tell you that I am forever grateful for this little heart clogging treasure.

COCONUT LIME PIE

crust

1 cup sugar cookie crumbs

3 cups sweetened shredded coconut

1 ½ tablespoon unsalted butter, melted

lime curd

4 tablespoons unsalted butter

3/4 cup freshly squeezed lime juice

3/4 cup sugar

2 tablespoons cornmeal

Pinch of salt

6 egg yokes

meringue

4 egg whites

1/2 cups sugar

1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

Finely grated zest of 1 lime    

Combine cookie crumbs, coconut and melted butter. Press approximately half of mixture onto bottom and up sides of 10 inch pie dish, building the sides to form an edge. Reserve remaining mixture for topping the pie.

Combine 4 tablespoons butter, lime juice, cornmeal, salt and 3/4 cup sugar in large metal bowl set over pot of simmering water - or, if you have the..., cook it over an moderate open flame. Cook slowly, scraping sides of bowl and whisking occasionally until the sugar dissolves and the corn meal softens and involves itself with the lime juice (10-15 minutes). 

Temper the 6 egg yolks by pouring some of the liquid into them while stirring, then return the egg-lime mixture to the pot all at once and cook, whisking occasionally until thickened, another 10- 15 minutes. The corn meal will assist in preventing the eggs from curdling. Remove from heat and cool, either directly in a water bath or in the refrigerator (press plastic wrap onto surface if you go this route). Either way, whisk occasionally.

Preheat oven to 275 degrees F. 

Beat egg whites, cream of tartar and 1/2 cup sugar until stiff and glossy. Gently fold 1/2 of beaten whites into lime curd. Then fold the remaining 1/2 along with the lime zest.

Pour filling into pie shell and sprinkle with reserved topping, mounding from the rim towards the middle and covering evenly (or leaving the center bare, like the eye of a hurricane). Bake 45-55 minutes, until pie has risen and coconut is golden brown. (The filling should be slightly cracked and firm when pressed in the center). Cool completely. Cover with plastic and refrigerate until well chilled, at least 6 hours or overnight.


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[cooks notes: first, I apologize for the picture. I am not happy with it but didn't realize how bad it was... until the pie was gone. Eaten. Second, the picture shows a little meringue puff in the middle - I had some leftover meringue and threw it on top. In my opinion, it is superfluous, but since I had extra, (having whipped up all 6 whites with a little more sugar), I added some more to the remaining coconut-cookie crumb mixture before piling on top. Again, not necessary and somewhat of a dumb move. Not that it subtracted from the taste - just that it made the crumbs clump up and look less attractive.]

LETTER TO HELEN

Someday you will read this. Some day when you have grown and I am gone.

I never got to know my grandfather, except through a few black and white photographs. And what my mom told me about him. But I didn't want that to be the only way you knew of me. I want the words I leave and the pictures I leave to speak to you for me.

Today I want to tell you about the first time we were alone together. When I felt comfortable enough to babysit you by myself and your parents were trusting enough to depend on me.

We only had a short time together - before you fell asleep - because that is what a 5 month old girl does after her noontime bottle. But we had a wonderful hour together.

After your mom mom left for work, I was in charge. I was hoping it would go well and you didn't let me down. You were able to communicate with me - both in your own way like all babies do, but also in a strange way - one that you couldn't master yet, but you tried. You seemed to try to speak in a language you did not have yet and to relay thoughts that you could not have thought yet.

One of the thoughts you did communicate was you let me know you were hungry. So I fed you 5 ounces of your bottle, and that seemed to take care of things. And since it was a beautiful day, I decided to take you outside.

Mom mom left a couple things for me - she was making sure I was equipped. There was a towel, which I guess was supposed to serve as a blanket if you went out. So I threw it over you even though I didn't think you needed it. And then there was this conversation I remember about being careful when I pulled your long sleeve outfit over your head. I guess she thought I was going to treat you like the lawn mower or something and pull the thing until your head popped off. Silly mom mom. I didn't see a need to change your shirt. The day was so pleasant.

So I put you in you stroller, which you were mostly OK with, and we went out the back door.

We went off-road first, into the back yard, but that didn't seem like a good idea, so we turned around and went to the front yard,  parking under the big silver maple tree - until I got concerned that the breeze might knock a branch down. So we moved over a little, under the dogwood. I positioned you so the sun was not in your eyes but you could have the full view of the trees - with their green leaves so high, and the sky looking so blue and peaceful.

We had no other plan. I just wanted to let you take things in. You looked around, your blue eyes focusing on the blue sky, and we looked for monarchs passing overhead, on their flight to Mexico.


After a short time, we moved to the front porch and I pulled you out to sit with me. I showed you the planter of flowers that I grew - huge impatiens in reds and oranges and fuchsia.

I let you grab a handful because you wanted to experience them for yourself. I don't know if you realized that you were so young, that even these flowers were older than you.

You had a small yellow birch leaf in your hand for a while, which you seemed to like too. Everything was new and everything was to be learned. And I was happy to be there with you to take your hand and help you to learn.

You seemed happy. Content. We were feeling as peaceful as the September day. Of course, one of us became interested in chewing on her toes. I tried to reach my toes, but I could not. I could a few years ago... maybe I just need to do some stretching now.

After a while, I put you back in your stroller and we sat a little longer. You had a lot to say to me and you blew some bubbles too. Then after a short while, it seemed your language got a little testy - which I translated into a request for more to eat. So I fixed up another 3 ounces and fed you on the couch in the living room - the one that mom mom likes to sit at when she feeds you. You fell asleep before you finished.

I burped you and took you upstairs for a nap. You fussed for about 10 seconds and then zonked out. Over the next hour, I checked several times to make sure you were ok (because nothing was going wrong on my watch!) and sooner than I wanted, your father was here to pick you up and take you home.

Because you were groggy, we didn't say good bye. But it didn't matter because I knew I would see you again shortly.

Here is a movie I took of you earlier that day. I call it your swimmy movie. You looked just like your mom looked when she was learning to crawl almost 35 years earlier. It's hard to express all that this makes me feel but I think someday you'll experience it yourself and understand.

MC CARTHY PARK IS MELTING IN THE DARK - 200 DAYS AT VICTORY FIELDS

It could be 400 days. I'm not counting; only making a guess. Regardless, "all the sweet green icing's flowing down"(1)

The fact is that as far back as I can remember, each day has been made up of a chorus of growling trucks and the constant movement of dirt. They take the dirt from one pile and move it to another pile.

And when the trucks back up, they "beeee-beeeee-beeeee-beeee-beeeee..."

Except of course today, Monday August 16, when at 7am, chainsaws announced the start of activity.

I did not live during the great depression and the upturn that followed it, but I'm thinking that perhaps this storm water retention effort and the reconstruction of McCarthy Park, at the eastern end Victory Fields is our modern day WPA project.

100 days... 200 days... 400 days... Greater sieges took much less time.  The Boxer rebellion of the early 20th century culminated in a 55 day siege on Beijing. This siege on McCarthy Park has the stamina of a marathon man, making the Boxers look like wusses for not lasting longer.


They wrote a song and made a movie about the Boxer rebellion. It was called 55 Days At Peking - starring Charlton Heston, Ava Gardner and David Niven.

Maybe it's time for the sequel.

In this modern remake, the steam shovel driver will be played by Charlton Heston in a reprise of his role in the original movie. He's dead, you say? Did someone finally pry that gun from his cold and twisted hand? (or was that his "cold, dead hand"... "twisted" being his form of logic?)

No matter, I think we can still use him in the movie. Maybe we'll add some mystery as his body tumbles out of a dump truck along with a load of dirt.

David Niven must also reprise his character of Sir Arthur Robinson. He can even keep the name. I hope he isn't dead too or wasn't killed in the original move - though, it is so easy to picture that happening, isn't it.

Anyway, in this movie, I want David to play the role of a beleaguered engineer. He was assigned to design a hole in the ground but somehow, he screwed that up - by overcomplicating the design, and by being in over his head to begin with. Now, 300 days into the effort, with the project over extended and over budget, he is on the verge of being attacked by the township board members (playing the role of the Boxers). Throughout the movie, we follow Arthur (David) through his daily roles and watch with building tension as he develops - first, a plan - then a truly creative and genius new plan - one that reframes the storm water retention project as a government incentive program - a project that keeps workers working - almost perpetually, in this downturned economy. Not only does he put down the insurrection of the Whitemarsh Board of supervisors, but in doing so he allows them to spin the effort for their own glory.

A win-win-win effort !!!

In the end, everyone lives happily ever after. The destroyed landscape eventually returns, although all of the trees and rabbits and groundhogs that were hurt in the making of the film, remain dead.

The residents also eventually adjust to the lost mountain of dirt that they had become accustom to. They once again hear the normal sounds of the summer day - mostly traffic, but occasionally, a hawk. And lastly, they all gain a new (albeit false) sense of security that their houses will not flood in the future.

Picture the final scene of the movie similar to the final scene from The Magnificent Seven. In it, we see the engineer Arthur Robinson, who has avoided many forms of death, taking up house with one of the neighborhood widows whom he has fallen in love with (a subplot to the movie). Looking over the retention pond - a "magnificent" hole of his own making - he mumbles something about, "in the end, only the farmer have won". This of course, makes no sense to the movie, but continues to portray the mental illness that led Arthur down this path.

Cue the sunset over Victory Fields.  I'm... (as Harry Kalas used to say) outta here !


(1) a famous line from the song, "MacArthur Park" by Jimmy Webb

ARCLIGHT

acrylic painting
14 x 22.65 inches

gessoed fabric on aluminum

august 19, 2010

new art by Christopher Pronchik

The string of numbers visible to the right, upper center are the first 10 digits of the Fibonacci sequence. This sequence (with fewer elements) appears a second time, upside down, but largely obscured. The dimensions of the piece roughly conform to the golden ratio, PHI (1.618...). The white logarithmic spiral is an approximate representation of a mathematical shape called the Golden Spiral.

Rather than add additional explanation for these bits of mathematics - which to be honest, are fading from my own abilities to understand and explain - I direct you to the following wikipedia article. The article provides some nice description but also more than a dose of the arcane mathematics that underlie it (and which may remove all beauty from your consideration of the terms).

God willing (meaning, my focus, maintenance of interest, and other factors), this is a prototype for a series of pieces that together will comprise an n x n matrix (n TBD) of meta-elements, currently envisioned and given the working title, "The Rutgers Collective".

(C) 2010 Christopher Pronchik. All rights reserved. No copies, whether whole, partial or digitally manipulated may be used without written permission of this artist.