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4/26/2008 - Life is Like a Mango
I love Mangoes. I think they're my favorite fruit. Them or pineapple, not sure, but forget the pineapple for a minute, let's talk mangoes.
If you've never had fresh mango, you gotta try it. Like anything, your mileage may vary, especially with tropical fruit. I hate Papaya for instance. But try the mango, and I'm not talking about mixed in with beans and onions in some high brow Bobby Flay "salsa", I mean just go to the store and buy one and cut it up and eat it. If you don't like it email me and I'll send you some fruit you do like, but I bet you like it.
I just made a mango smoothie. When I was done I was kinda dissapointed. It didn't taste anything like mangoes really. It was good, but I wouldn't repeat the experience. I have some left if you wanna try it. When I cook I don't really have a plan I just put in things until I get what I'm shooting for. Since, as the man said, you can always add more but you can't take any back out, when I finally have the right balance of things I have made enough to serve a cavalry unit.
As I was making this smoothie (which, incidentally turned out more like pudding, I'll have to look into that) it occured to me that the mango is not just the greatest fruit ever, but a shockingly appropriate metaphor for life. Why? Well, where I say mango, mentally substitute the word "life" and you'll see what I mean. You know, take a few poetic liberties as necessary. Obviously, cutting up a life doesn't make a lot of sense, so use your imagination.
Mangoes are tricky. You need to know how to cut a mango because they have a very big, very odd shaped seed. The first time you cut one, you think the seed is jumping around in there to get in the way of your knife. Once you've done it a couple times, though, it makes perfect sense.
Mangoes are messy. You just can't stay clean cutting up a mango. You have to at least peel it to eat it and when you do you discover they are extremely hard to hang on to. They have a great deal less traction than your conventional apple or orange section. They do not come conveniently wrapped like bananas. I prefer to cut on either side of the seed and then score the fruit inside, turn the mango half inside out and the fruit comes out in chunks. Ha, figure out the life metaphor in there, smarty.
Mangoes are hard to explain. The taste of a mango is difficult to describe. To me, it's like a cross between oranges and bananas with a little pineapple, but I've hear a hundred different comparisons. The bottom line is you gotta try the mango yourself before you will know what it tastes like. No one can tell you, you have to find out for yourself.
Mangoes don't last long. They have a limited shelf life. You have to do something with them before they're too old. If you wait too long, you can't use them to make what you planned to make.
Mangoes are fun, pretty, delicious, and unusual. Good ones can be hard to find, but they are worth looking for.
There you go. Now get out there and get yourself some mangoes!
4/21/2008 - It Ain't Paradise But It'll Do
A number of years ago I was sitting in hotel room in Pleasanton, California. Have you ever been to Pleasanton? It's all kinds of pleasant, but pleasant to me is nearly a synonym to boring. (No offence to Pleasantonians, I'm sure you live there because you dig pleasant. That's cool.)
I was there for a couple weeks and I was in a songwriting cycle, so I went down to a local music store and rented a guitar so I'd be able to actually get something done.
At that time I wanted out of where I was living so bad I could taste it. I was tired of the snow, tired of the people, tired of the beautiful mountains. Yes, tired of the mountains. I wanted the beach. I wanted warm sun and sand. And here I was in Pleasanton. No beach, at least not anywhere nearby. There was sun, in fact the weather was great, but no sand. Not ony did I not want to live where I was living, I didn't want to be where I was even when I got away from where I was living.
You ever see that bumper sticker that says "the common denominator in all your failed relationships is you?" I started asking myself where exactly would qualify for the place I wanted to be right now. It boiled down to SoCal, Florida, or a host of exotic places I wasn't going to be going anytime soon.
Realistically, if you hone your expectations to a razor sharp fineness, you can expect them to never be met. What I wanted was to live in Margaritaville, inside a Buffett song, and that place doesn't exist. Jimmy himself says you gotta take it with you wherever you go.
So I drove to the store and bought a bunch of tequila and then I didn't care where I was. Hey, Jimmy was right, you take it with you!
No, seriously, I didn't do that. As far as you know. Okay if I did do that it has nothing to do with this subject, okay, SO QUIT ASKING!
What I realized was that where you are is less important than who you're with. And so the song It Ain't Paradise was born. The bridge finishes up with the line:
Don't spend your time wishing you were somewhere else
Once you're somewhere else you'll be wishing you were here
It's not a new concept. If you ever read L. Frank Baum's original Wonderful Wizard of Oz, you know that the Judy Garland movie had abso-freaking-lutely NOTHING to do with the book, but it did end with a wise refrain:
"If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with!"
It may be snowing outside, and cold as hell, but there's always a beach in my heart.
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