Saturday, September 26, 2009

New England


So I thought I'd write a blog about this place I'll be inhabiting for the next two months. I was driving, I had music, I was inspired.

The Scenery
I just returned from a roundtrip shopping quest, taking the back roads through Lenox and Pittsfield. On one of the roads, is Herman Melville’s* house,
Arrowhead, which overlooks the wooded hills of the Berkshires. It just sits there, on the side of the road, as though it was anyone’s house. These small, windy, two-lane roads that curve and twist, taking me through leaved kaleidoscope tunnels of green, yellow, and orange. This is one of the places where I find America – as it was, as it is, and as it will always be; red barns, pumpkin patches, raked piles of leaves, dapples of afternoon sun, and the random dwelling place of a great writer, just sitting by the side of the road. No pretention, no glaring neon signs, no great alarms – simple, understated, hard-working. Look up Bucolic in the Dictionary, and there’s a picture of New England.

The People
As I am not a native New Englander, I find myself under a slight bought of insecurity whenever I come here. I cannot fully describe the reasons why, or how this came to be, except that New Englanders keep themselves to themselves, and to a West Coaster, that’s slightly off-putting. A New Englander will not make a promise and then break it. Nor do they cancel, flake-out, or make excuses for anything. ANYTHING. They live by their word here – not in a naïve, down-home way; on the contrary, New Englanders are incredibly shrewd and discerning (It really sucks when they don’t like you…I’m looking at you, lady who works at the deli!). They live through incredibly harsh winters, talk very quickly, nod curtly, close their coats tighter against the wind chill, grit their teeth, and go about their business. Please don’t mistake me – it’s not in meanness. It’s just the way they are. Loyal to their sports teams beyond any sane proportions – I took my life into my hands today when I wore my Duck’s baseball cap. They have Tag Sales, not Yard Sales. New England is not for the faint of heart.

New England at Play
This weekend in Lenox, is a once-a-year event called the Apple Squeeze. Why? Well, one of New England’s best exports are apples. John Irving writes about this quite often in his novels (see: Cider House Rules). Apple Cider, Apple Cider donuts, Apple turn-overs, Apple Jelly, Apple Sausage, Apple Dumplings, Apple butter … you name it, it’s here. Most of the produce here comes from Florida, sadly. But ahhh … in the Fall, the apple bounty is quite impressive. New England could give Washington State a run for their money. So walking the streets of Lenox are folks from Berkshire County, and over-the-border upstate New Yorkers, trolling from booth to booth. It’s not all about apples though … there are several civic and social organizations. As I drove by, I saw a booth promoting the Public Health Care option.
One of the local high schools is trying to raise money for their participation in an arts program. This festival spans all of down town … which is the equivalent to three small city blocks. This is a town of about 7,000. There are no rides, except that of a hay wagon, no jump houses, nothing frilly or fancy. It’s a bunch of folks who get together, purchase apple products from local farmers, talk with their neighbors, read about current political happenings, support local social/civic organizations, and go home at the end of the day. What so special about this? I hear you ask. This is the highlight of the town. It’s advertised from Williamstown to Connecticut, Albany, NY to Springfield. Everyone knows about The Apple Squeeze. Children look forward to it, as though it were a trip to Disneyland – minus the extravagance, the greed, and the useless collection of crap.

Driving in New England
New England is an amassed collection of highways and country routes. The routes are usually signified with numbers, but also have street names. Sadly, most people know them by one or the other, but not by both – so the propensity to get lost in New England, if you’re not a native, is excruciatingly high. They also tend to use landmarks, but not distinct landmarks. Oh, no no no. Common landmarks that will have multiples within a mile of each other.
An example:

Take the Mass Pike to Lee, take Route 20 north until you reach Plunkett street, go through Lenox, then take the 20 until it turns onto South street by the Dunkin’ Donuts, and take that to Dalton.

What’s wrong with these directions? Well … a better, more concise version would be:

Take the Mass Pike to Lee, turn right onto Route 20 (heading North), until you reach Route 7A, which will take you through Lenox. 7A will meet back up with Route 20 North, taking you into downtown Pittsfield, where you’ll see a sign for Route 8 and 9 to Dalton and Northampton.

Plunkett Street = Route 7A
South Street = Route 8/9

You think it’s just a slight difference, until you’re actually driving, and the signs for Plunkett Street and South Street are either indiscernible or simply don’t exist. Locals will know the street names, and will rattle them off at the speed of light, but that doesn’t mean they will transpose on your actual journey. And if there’s one Dunkin’ Donuts, there will be two others along the way that will confuse the hell out of you. For my West Coast readers: Dunkin’ Donuts is to New England as Starbucks is to the West Coast, only cheaper, and with better coffee. For Canadian readers: Dunkin’ Donuts is to New England as Tim Horton’s is to Canada. No addendum necessary.

Driving Tip: Take a local with you. It’s much easier. Usually.

DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, HONK. If you Honk, you will incur the wrath of the New Englander. They will automatically tag you as a New Yorker, and then you might as well go into hiding under the Federal Witness Protection Program. I am serious about this. New England is often abused and mistreated by New Yorkers who consider New England to be their “Weekend Playground.” If New England could go to war against New York State, they totally would. They refrain, however, because New Yorkers make up the largest portion of New England’s Tourism, and the economic repercussions would be too painful. New Englanders, are, in reality, at the mercy of the wealthy New Yorkers who come to camp, bed & breakfast, watch for Autumn colors, ski, etc. This is a fact that New Englanders will deny, but know to be true –and they HATE it. New England greatly prefers economic dollars from the cousin to the North: Eastern Canada. The Torontonians and the Quebecois are ALL welcome. New Yorkers are permitted, but only under the strains of economic burden. New Englanders try very hard to ignore the presence of the New Yorker. Honking is the surest, most tried system of New York detection. The typically private, self-possessed New Englander, upon a honking violation, will turn into an angry, passive aggressive monster, bent upon the offender’s downfall. There is a reason that New Yorkers have endeared Massachusetts natives with the pet name of “Massholes.” Just sayin’.

Important Note: As far as identifiers go, gratuitous speeding is a close second. And there’s a reason the Massachusetts Highway Patrol is well employed. New Englanders are not fools, nor do they suffer them. At all.

Nowhere, besides, perhaps, Israel, is the Jewish Holiday celebrated more than in New England. Most Americans West of Pennsylvania only ever recognize Jewish Holidays by those funny little names on the yearly calendar. I mean, Canada Day is on the calendar, but Americans certainly don’t pay attention to that, so why should Yom Kippur be any different? Oh … but it IS. New York and New England are the Jewish strongholds of the states. Most of us on the West Coast only know this to be true about New York because that’s what we see in the movies, but New England holds its own with the Chosen People. It’s taken so seriously, in fact, that the thought of calling a rehearsal or a sports practice on these holidays is strongly discouraged … even if one is calling the non-Jewish members of a cast or a team. The argument they have, which is completely valid, is that practices are never, ever called for Christmas Day or New Year’s Day, so why should they be called on the High Holy Days? They definitely have a point. Ramadan has very little representation, but should, one would think, deserve the same respect. I can only hope that this is true in Deerborne, MI. Oh well.

Ahhhhh New England! The beer is dark, the politics are Blue, the seasons pronounced, the holidays Jewish, the writer’s dead and their houses lay willy nilly on the side of the road, the people curt and loyal, the sports super-serious, and the New Yorkers abhorred. It’s a pretty awesome place.

*to put the writer’s houses into perspective: To the South of Shakespeare & Co., is Edith Wharton’s House (which was Shakes & Co’s home for awhile), The Mount. To the North is Nathaniel Hawthorne’s House. Seriously, dead writer's houses litter the sides of New England roads.

This blog was brought to you buy:

pumpkin spice bread
my awesome itunes playlist

Monday, September 21, 2009



I am so sorry I haven't posted a blog in over two weeks!! BAD POLAR BEAR!

Please rest assured that I am:
a) Fine!
b) Very happy to be in New England!
c) Incredibly grateful to have a job that I love!
d) Am tired and very busy in training, but will be able to find time to write again soon!

My voyage out here is an entire blog in and of itself ... which I will write as soon as I find some free time to myself.

I hope all of you out there are very well, and know that I think of you often, not to mention the withdrawals I've been experiencing in my absence.

This blog is brought to you by:

Battlestar Galactica
The Weepies
Vitamin Water: Endurance
The end of Summer

Saturday, September 5, 2009

FYI ...


I leave on Tuesday (9/8/09) for Calgary, AB to see my Monkey ... and then on Sept. 14th, I'm flying to Albany, New York....

Polar Bear has a 2 month gig in Western Massachusetts. Hooray! No more 90 degree weather and lack of seasons! (Polar Bears don't do well in 90 degree weather...)

That phone call I had been waiting for finally came.

Friday, September 4, 2009

The glory of Niche...


The last few of my posts have been rather ... heavy-handed. I am determined to alter that, especially because I myself am no longer feeling heavy-handed. It's amazing what temporary employment and airplane tickets can do ...

This morning, my beautiful, intelligent girlfriend with impeccable taste posted a simple little lyric as her facebook status:

her name was Lola ...

This four word phrase launched a panoply of responses (most of them from me), everything from continuing the lyrics to this little Barry Manilow gem, to some discussion over the lyrics of Warren Zevon's Werewolves of London, to a discussion about cabbage. You know, this really defies explanation. I'll just post an excerpt [this is entirely true, btw ... I copy and pasted everything - the original names are reduced to protect the victims]:


and while she tried to be a star, Tony always tended bar...

no....just wishful thinking....hoping that if i introduced that one, everyone would forget about barry manilow, aka boring marshmallow...

but they didn't meet in a bar in old Soho

I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand
Walking through the streets of Soho in the rain

was his hair perfect?

What is wrong with you two? Oooohhh, the humanity.... PS: Please stop.

It was! I'd like to meet his tailor...

"His hair was PERFECT?" I always thought it was "His hair was PURPLE."

T!! Just like you thought the Dylan song had "Rosemary fixed her hair & took a CABBAGE into town"!!!

Dates with cabbages can be very formal. Perhaps doing your hair is a wise thing to do

unless you don't like cabbage ...

Who would take a carriage on a date? They're terrible conversationalists and you always have to pick up the tab!

but carriages have horses, and girls like horses, ergo, carriages are very romantic.

That's Barry Manilow for you; bringing people together for random Friday insanity. But the song (Copacabana) made me think a little bit. It's really a niche song, right? It's a song about how a showgirl goes insane because her boyfriend, the bartender, is shot and killed by a member of the mob. Not exactly your every-day, run of the mill song of personal expression. I mean, Barry Manilow isn't exactly Elliott Smith, now, is he? But we all have niche songs that we love, right? As evidenced above, I'm a big fan of Werewolves of London - a song in which depicts a cool, hip werewolf terrorizing various parts of London, while looking for Lee Ho Fook's Beef Chow Mein dish. Awesome.

Let's define "Niche" first, shall we? As defined by the Merriam-Webster's Dictionary:

Niche: a specialized market

What I mean by saying "niche" in regard to these songs, is that while music (like theatre, film, books, etc) has many different genres of style, the content of the individual song is so specific, it can't be categorized as generically thematic song like, "love song" or "break-up song" or "life song;" in short, songs that are based on emotions (which, arguably, most are). Rather, niche songs tell a story - like the epic songs of old Viking Halls, or Medieval troubadours at courts. It's a style that's greatly gone out of fashion in the past 100+ years ... and while niche songs can be emotional, the point of them is not the emotion. (I can take anything slightly cool and make it really nerdy ... it's a special talent.)

And, let's face it. Post-modern niche songs are just a little weird.

But the beauty of niche songs is that weird absurdity. It's unifying! Don't want to listen to songs about suicide, excessive drug abuse, or a massively broken heart? Then niche songs are for you! I myself am a big fan of incredibly obscure niche songs, like this little Leonard Nimoy ditty:

Yes, that is, in fact, Leonard Nimoy. Singing about Hobbits. My college roommate, Leah, played me this song during my junior year, when it was REALLY obscure - this was before youtube ... so imagine my delight at realizing that there was an accompanying video!!

Sadly, not everyone shares my taste for wonderful obscurity. But let's look at some other more well known anthems:

Mr. Roboto (Close your eyes, Monkey!) - a song about a man hiding inside of a robot. [little known fact: the song, Mr. Roboto was written for Styx's concept album/rock opera Kilroy Was Here]

Stairway to Heaven - a song that not even the band can explain. A lady buys a stairway to heaven ... and "something about a bustle in the hedgegrow" ... I'd say it classifies as Niche. (in the intro to this video, Plant says, "I think this is a song of hope." Yeah ... okay.)

Bohemian Rhapsody - another song that the band can't (or won't) explain. But we know it's about a dude, who killed a man, and goes on the run. With a Scaramouch, doing the Fandango...

Now ... I defy anyone to tell me that these last three songs - Mr. Roboto, Stairway to Heaven, and Bohemian Rhapsody - are not sung at the tops of karaoke patron's lungs ... and I mean the whole bloody bar is up, singing like the asylum patients in Marat/Sade. EVERYONE knows these songs, and 99% of people love them.

The other 1% is reserved for people like my girlfriend, who hates Mr. Roboto with the ire of Beelzebub.

If anyone has any awesomely obscure songs, send them my way!
This blog post was brought to you by:

Rubio's Baja Grill
Yahoo Fantasy Hockey
Leonard Nimoy

Thursday, September 3, 2009

It's Health Care War Day on Facebook!


There are two things I do every morning when I wake up.

The first, involves the bathroom. The second is turning on my laptop. It might be a sad state of affairs to you, but it's force of habit. I *have* to check my email. Have to, have to, have to. I hate the phone, so if I can communicate electronically, I will. If I don't check my e-mail, I just don't feel quite right. The two exceptions to this rule are:

  • if I'm on vacation.
  • if there's no internet connection available.
I digress.

After I check aforementioned e-mail, I go to (you guessed it) facebook. Facebook has replaced my coca-cola addiction single-handedly. I think I've maybe blogged more about the goings on of facebook than I have about anything else. Except, perhaps, top 10 lists.

At any rate, when I opened facebook, this is the status message I saw on (literally) the first 7 friends on my feed:

[your name here] thinks that no one should die because they cannot afford health care, and no one should go broke because they get sick. If you agree, please post this as your status for the rest of the day.

Brilliant. I agree with that! I'll post it too! So I did. And so did 50 of my other friends and relatives (and continue to do so through the day, exponentially). And I thought, "What a clever way to discuss and/or unite about an issue! Hooray for grassroots forums!"

But you know, not everyone DOES agree, and whether we like it or not, that's the basis of the US Republic. I respect everyone's opinion ... to a degree. The two sides of the argument are quite polarizing ... much like marriage rights. The Conservative side seems to think that if/when the public health care option is instated, the world will crumble (ahead of schedule), Obama will magically turn into Adolf Hitler, and there will be "death panels."

Death Panels?

As a liberal, I've heard this term thrown around, and regard it with a high amount of confusion. Death Panels? It sounds like the material used in the making of the Death Star. Why would Conservatives be afraid of make-believe building materials? So I went to go look up what in the blue blazes these people are talking about. Note: It took me four different Google searches to get a viable, informative, fact-based explanation. (Thanks, New York Times!)

So apparently, the latest fear-based tactic by the media machine is reporting that if there's a public health-care option, the government will get to decide which of the elderly or infirm patients gets to live or die. Literally, a panel of people choosing the life-fate of old people or the terminally ill.

Wait, what?!

Let's take this step-by-step:
  • Government issues public health-care option for individuals without health care
  • People who can't afford health care now have a more cost-effective option
  • Government then creates a death panel to eliminate the elderly and seriously ill
That seems like a far-fetched and outlandish leap, with Sarah Palin and her down-syndrome baby as the poster child. But are we surprised? Wait ... this smells familiar. I ... I think I might have experienced this all before! Wait ... wait ... it's coming to me ...

Mr. Rove? ...are you there?

His monster machine that is so good as scaring the bajeezus out of the (quite large) percentage of the American Public who doesn't research for themselves, has folks up in arms about these damn "death panels." To be fair, I read a few articles from moderate conservatives dispelling the "death panel" hysteria, but are worried about the effect public health care will have on the national debt. This is at least a rational argument I can handle discussing.

But back to facebook.

The beauty about social networking sites, facebook now being the largest of these, is that we are all friends with at least ONE person who doesn't exactly share our own views. I personally enjoy this... most of the time. I like to debate; I like it when someone gives me an argument to really think about - an argument that makes me pause in my tracks and think about *why* I think what I think, or feel what I feel. Inevitably, it either makes my arguments stronger in the process, or it redefines the structure of the issue. This can only be a good thing! I dig change, I dig redefinition! And I can admit when I'm wrong, or if my argument needs a rethink.

What I DO NOT appreciate are preposterous arguments based in fear and ignorance. But there were a few of my facebook buddies who were aligning to the fear present in the "Death Panels" claim. I absolutely believe that they believe that death panels will come to fruition. I do NOT believe, however, that they have read anything other than the twisted stories reported on by the likes of Sean Hannity, Bill O'Reilly, or Ann Coulter. I'm not saying these folks need to suddenly switch to the Huffington Post or Keith Olbermann (oh how they HATE Keith Olbermann!) ... but search for things like this. Or this. Or even this.

Meanwhile, I engaged in verbal combat with a friend of a friend in status comments, relating to the public options and programs that are already in place. This individual, I believe, works in the health care industry, and was rattling off programs already in existence that she claims currently fit the bill to what is proposed in Obama's proposed public health care option. The problem, as I told her, is that most people don't know about these programs, because no one has bothered to tell them. And with the programs as they are, they are so specific as to who they can help, that they don't help the Average Joe.

When I left my very nice, steady "day job" to pursue the life of a full-time artist, I also left behind the health care insurance that was so kindly provided to me. I currently have no health insurance. But when I ended my employment, I received a letter from the Cal-COBRA program, telling me that I could, in fact, continue my health care ... for $315 a month. I wouldn't have been able to afford that when I *did* have my nice, steady bi-monthly pay check, let alone as a poor, hungry artist (emphasis on poor ... and on occasion, hungry).

A man named Don Hayes, whom I've known for most of my life, died at the beginning of this year because he couldn't afford the medicine for his heart condition. Sadly, he didn't tell anyone that he had a heart condition, let alone that he needed money for drugs. One of the arguments that isn't getting debated in this private/public health care battle, is the issue of money. Money is an incredibly powerful element in the United States. We bow to a have/have not system (sorry, but that's essentially what purist Capitalism is). The American dream is based on a have philosophy. There is shame in admitting that something can't be purchased or owned or provided for. I have no doubt that this kind, empathetic, sweet man, who used to play with me when I was very small, was shamed into keeping silent about his struggle in paying his health bills. Would people have helped him were the problem communicated? Absolutely. Would that have solved the problem? No. The cycle would continue, pending the status of his health, and his quality of life would have remained poor and desperate.

That's no way to live.

My friend's fate is not the only story like this. This is continuing, and WILL continue until an effective solution is reached. Reform needs to happen one way or another, but how many lives need to be lost before we change it?

I am 110% certain that this change will happen without "death panels."

By the by, I think this video is a great argument as to WHY the public health care option is a good thing:

This blog is brought to you by:

iced coffee
Flogging Molly
Karl Rove
Death Star building materials

Wednesday, September 2, 2009



In the bit of my day that is reserved for time-wasting [see: all of it], I saw an add on facebook that appalled me.

It's Ted Kennedy's senatorial photo in front of the capital building, like so:

The headline reads,

Ted Kennedy, R.I.P

The tagline says,
Support the legacy of the liberal lion. Purchase Kennedy books, apparel, and videos.

The link takes you here.

So apparently, supporting a legacy means forking over some cash for crap that you don't need. How American! Is it a revolutionary idea to support Teddy Kennedy's legacy by, oh, I don't know, voting for a government health care option? Or maybe supporting marriage rights for all US citizens? Can't we do something to support his legacy, rather than buy it?

No? Too much?

The real irony is that in some sales pitch, somewhere, they're urging us to "Buy American" for our foundering economy, while waving a patriotic flag for a native son ... but the merchandise they're asking us to buy was probably made in China, and contains high levels of mercury.

Cancer, anyone?
This blog post was brought to you by:

ice water
Miles Davis

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Let's talk cars ... math included!


Because why not?

I took my car in to get an oil/lube/filter and tire rotation. $25.00 spent in the preventative care of my car. Money well spent, yes?

I was told that my transmission fluid is a little dirty, and I'll need to get the fluids flushed soon. This is not preventative care, so much as it's more ... urgent care. I was quoted roughly $140 for this little procedure. Which really, as car repairs go, isn't too bad.

At some point, I also need to get one of the hoses replaced in my engine, mainly because it's the factory hose, and soon I'll be running on borrowed time as to when it starts to fall apart. This piece of auto surgery will cost about $350. The part itself only costs about $25 - the labor is the sticky wicket on this venture.

Also, I have a monster crack in my windshield that I've lived with for 5 years. Luckily, it doesn't, nor has it ever impeded my vision while driving. But it's worth a fix-it ticket at least. This is also the 2nd windshield I've had on my car, so I'll be working toward #3 ... replacement windshields cost anywhere from $200-$250 for most small to midsized cars. The cool part, is that you can get companies to come to where you are, pop out your old windshield, and install the new one right there. I've seen it.

So let's tally this up:
$140 transmission fluid flush
350 engine hose replacement
225 replacement windshield (this is the median price, I figure)
$715 total repairs

So, $715 and my car is as good as new... minus the 71,000 miles it already has on it.

Now, according to Kelly Blue Book, my 2003 Mazda Protege DX with my car's particular specs, would sell for $7,180. That would wipe out my debt AND put a little in my pocket.

Now, subtracting the $715 I would need pay BEFORE I sold my car, I'm really only looking at about $6,465 in profit. Still, not too shabby. My car is also completely paid for, so I don't have to worry about paying off a car loan.

Here's my predicament. Where I'm moving, I'm not really going to need a car. The Southern California megatropolis is one of the few thriving cities that has sub-par (and let's face it), crappy public transportation. LA County is getting better, but the OC really has such little hope. Trust me, friends ... I've seen cities with competent, even ingenious public transportation. It's not a myth!

I have a huge moral dilemma in owning a car. I realize that in living where I live at the moment, I need one. I really do understand that. But in this increasingly maddening climate rise, I cannot justify pumping more carbon emissions into the air than I absolutely need to (I have a similar moral objection to bearing children, but I'll save that for another time). And the only reason I do need to, is because I live here. And in fact, I want to leave. My solution then, seems clear. Sell the car, and go.

My hesitation arises from the "what if?" factor. What if I need to come back to work for a little bit? What if I will actually need a car in Calgary? What if selling my only financial asset at the moment is a bad thing? And so on, and so forth ...

But this is not a time for pragmatic fence-sitting. This is a time to be brave; a time to be bold. I think most of us have, or are now starting to have similar moral objections to the way our world is being treated. Yet we cling to this old dogma of stuff; the mantra that we are nothing without things ... things make us, things define us, things communicate our worth. Hooray for neo-capitalism! I'm actually very low-maintenance when it comes to collecting stuff. Music, DVDs, books; these are typically as far as I go down the road of acquirement. My car is, and has been, my Achilles' Heel in this category.

I've had the long standing belief that cars equate freedom, and liberty; just like Jack Sparrow waxes poetical about The Black Pearl. When I was 16, I was given a great freedom - not just because I passed the driver's test for my license, but because, for the first time in my life, I could dictate where I went, when I went, and didn't need to rely on others for the cargo of my person. This was a really big deal for me, because as a child of divorce, I spent about half of my time in a car with either respective parent. Driving was always such a hassle for them, even though my parents only lived about 35 minutes apart. And the day when I drove my car from my dad's house to my mom's ... on my own ... was possibly one of the top five days of my life, to date. It also doesn't help that my car was a college graduation present from my family. And the amount of memories, road-trips, and friends I've experienced in my car ... I've driven across the country twice. How many people can say they've done that?

What I'm trying to say, is that I have a ridiculous amount of emotional attachment to my car. Independence to an independent person is mother's milk; it's a necessity. I hate asking for rides almost as much as I hate borrowing money. It's simply not in my nature.

But what's more important? My emotional pride in the illusion of providing for myself? Or helping the planet? To me, that's essentially what this dilemma boils down to. What I need to remember is that public transportation is the happy medium in the crux of my problem; I can be independent and get to where I want to go, without sucking down fossil fuels or having a high carbon footprint.

I find this hard to remember, however, in an area where public transportation is treated like a bonus, and not requirement.

And maybe if I can be bold, and cast off my cloak of automobile attachment and dependence, maybe I can inspire others to do the same.

"Be the change you wish to see in the world."

Ghandi is my homeboy.
This blog post is brought to you by:

The Weakerthans
Brie, salami, and multi-grain cracker finger sandwiches
My car: Trinity