Tag: Viet Nam

Peace Love and Rock ‘n’ Roll and a Piece of Apple Pie

Peace Love and Rock ‘n’ Roll and a

Piece of Apple Pie

The world is too much with us; late and soon,

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—

Little we see in Nature that is ours;…William Wordsworth

I watched a news report on AI, (Artificial Intelligence) the other day and ran for a bag of Oreos.

I always assumed artificial intelligence was how one described Congress, but apparently it isn’t. It’s actually really smart so boy was I off by miles.

Since I’m determined to reverse the tone for this piece and turn it into a happier read, I’m struggling to find a way to help myself and others achieve a sense of peace and acceptance over those things in life over which we have no control.

I’m no expert on how to live a great life, but I imagine there are some obvious problems we might tackle head on before the robot armies attack.

We need to reject those decisions that are made when we are, so to speak, out of the room and into which we have no input.

This whole AI and robot thing is kind of scarier than I thought it would be even when HAL took over the ship in 2001: A Space Odyssey. I always thought robots would be fun and helpful like my favorite of all time, Beep Beep Rosie. Boy could she swing a vacuum cleaner.

How do we cope and why is it important we must?

Well on a human level and to add some humor to this discussion, we need to cope because otherwise I’ll be five hundred pounds and the bakeries will run out of cookies and the pizza joints cheese.

I don’t give a damn about calories at all when I can justify eating day or night to mask fear.

Yes, I know I’m only adding to my problems, but one isn’t as bad as the other so I’ll keep eating for now.

Some people exhibit an innate ability to “deal” with crap life throws at us.

I’m not talking only about death, but the numerous other awful challenges we face as humans each day.

Somehow it seems life had more balance when we were younger. Although it’s true we lived through our share of craziness and horror. Viet Nam, the Chicago ’68 convention, cities burning,  Kent State, riots, new Coke, Yoko Ono and polyester; yet life seemed more balanced.

There were more parties, more laughter, more gatherings with family and friends back before the gloomy times.

When bad left, good came until our next go round with the dark forces.

Yet today it seems we must actively seek out ways to restore the balance. That negativity is winning the day.

Finding joy is like seeking out a truffle in the midst of a thousand pigs, when it used to seem more plentiful and easily available. Is it the times and is joy more elusive today?

So how do we restore order to the universe without bothering Yoda?

How do we awaken and dismiss the bad news, the insanity and have a good day despite turmoil?

I ask friends and it seems the answers are the same. Stop watching the news, find a new hobby, visit your grandchildren, volunteer, stop watching the news, visit your grandchildren, see a concert, take a trip and yes, see the grandchildren.

But we all know our children and grandkids have their own lives. We need to find a way to fill our days with more joy, less time to dredge up memories and ways to feel happy and upbeat.

Are you a lousy painter? Good, take up painting. Ever think about pottery? Why not? Make a vase to keep some beautiful flowers in and grow them yourself. If it’s lopsided who cares? Say it was intentional.

Swim, play bridge, canasta, maj jong, and go to classes at your local library.

I would love to apply for my dream job of shusher in the Sistine Chapel, where you only have to work every twenty minutes, but I doubt they’ll let a Jewish woman do that job.

We need to laugh more, be together more, have more tea parties, those little sandwiches and cakes are the best thing the British ever invented.

More than anything we need to love.

Life is a challenge today, at least as I see it. It’s a concerted effort to find harmony through tranquil endeavors.

To eliminate stress by avoiding stressful situations and a desire to restore peace, love and rock n roll to the world.

We could plan a Woodstock for the Baby Boomers and hear any bands still alive play?  We could pass out hearing aids, or take them off, and paint old VW vans. We’d wear flowers in our thinning hair and talk about how Gerry Rubin died a Republican and Abbie Hoffman killed himself. And Tom Hayden suffered a worse fate… he married Jane Fonda.

I guess it doesn’t matter how we achieve Nirvana as long as we do. And perhaps it’s not the achieving that will do the trick, but the actual seeking we need.

William Wordswoth wrote… “the world is too much with us”…I have never agreed more.

Now we must decide what life we want for ourselves. What world we wish to exist within. We have allowed others to choose for us and create a universe we’d rather not accept. They bully us into living within the walls of their insane reality. Even an artificial one.

Sure we all love our computers, and there are new technologies that are super cool, but this AI and robot thing, I don’t know…

We need to make the universe a better place ourselves, because I’m here to tell you the people we’re allowing to run this world are doing a piss poor job.

Gut the house and rebuild and I guarantee future generations will thank us. Send AI marching into oblivion and honor humanity and its gifts.

Excuse me, I have an apple pie in the oven and I’m churning the ice cream to go with it. Let’s see AI roll out the perfect pie crust.

When Will They Ever Learn? And Why Didn’t We?

“Where Have all the Young Men Gone, long time passing… where have all the soldiers gone, long time ago…When will they ever learn when will they ever learn?” Where Have all the Flowers Gone? by Pete Seeger and Joe Hickerson.

I used to think being crazy was a bad thing. Now I thank God every day I am. I seriously doubt at this moment in time anyone who is perfectly normal can find a way to cope with the insanity around us.

So how crazy do you have to be to exist in a world that has become so totally insane it is impossible to envision a corner of the planet where calm and peace any longer exist? 

A place where flowers grow and deer prance around in green lush woods. Where children play happily on white sandy beaches.

Oh sure I forgot the Garden of Eden which supposedly exists somewhere in the middle east or Africa. Forgive me if I find that scenario to be in any way believable or realistic.

So let’s get back to this whole being crazy thing.

When I was young, back in prehistoric times we had an expression “peace, love and rock n roll.”

Now that has turned to “chaos, murder and hatred.”

What happened to the flower children who lived on communes and painted Volkswagen busses while espousing love for everyone and peace on earth?

Hmmm, well I wonder that perhaps it wasn’t us peaceniks that are responsible for what has become of that dream.

The Baby Boomer generation was entrusted with a sacred task, to spread peace and love across the world in a time when it had been littered with death and hatred.

We did it well, but perhaps too well.

Were we naïve about man’s capacity to truly love one another, to accept other’s flaws, opinions and lifestyles. Even when they conflicted with our own?

Did we assume that our message despite the war in Viet Nam was being taken seriously by the powers that be and that the military industrial complex would ultimately simply expunge their weapons and “the lion would lie down with the lamb?”

There is an argument to be made that we were cavalier about those dreams we created for a better world. That while we got busy living our lives, accumulating our fortunes and raising our children we lost sight of a responsibility that needed tending.

Did we believe that peace would come without sacrifice? That love would simply spread like a virus throughout the world?

That rock n roll was a solution to the problems of a species that was only a few decades out of the caves and could at any moment revert to their uncivilized behavior?

We never saw it coming.

While we were driving our BMWs, shopping in giant new malls and seeking bigger and better neighborhoods and schools for our offspring we assumed someone was on the wall and watching the gate.

But they weren’t. No one was.

The cold war turned hot, new wars arose and countries with no regard for human life sprung up like weeds to populate what we believed was a green and lush topography. China flourished with our help to become a rabid dog intent on destroying the hand that fed him.

So are we at fault for dropping the ball?

When we marched at our colleges for peace how did we never envision future generations that would march to excuse evil?

Are we at fault for universities that encourage hatred, violence and dare I say it, sheer stupidity? Should we blame those who blindly donated to their alma maters without first investigating their policies and attitudes? Perhaps that is a big part of our current problems.

Or was there ever really a ball to be dropped.

Were we simply too high on weed to come down to earth long enough to understand our folly?

To realize after World War II evil not only still existed in our world, but in just a few generations this would become a truly evil world.

A place where good gets shouted down and cowers under the loud voice of the wicked. Where the moral compass of the world would go mahoola and twist and turn into unreadable directions.

That man would more than ever be a lost soul wandering about in a malicious society.

That the red flags were waving and we never noticed. We lost sight of our goals and assumed our message would continue to resonate with others down through time.

We were foolish.

When I say we I also mean me.

I forgot that “good will ultimately triumph over evil” is the grand design, yet before evil is defeated it takes many good people down.

That evil will never be satiated without first tasting the blood of the innocent and that leaders who are fools are no match for those who are malevolent. That evil never sleeps and good naps constantly.

Now I look at what we have allowed the world to become and I feel guilt and sorrow for the mess our children and grandchildren must attempt to clean.

There are no flowers, kumbaya or peace love and rock n roll on the horizon for them.

Only a world filled with the ashes of peace, brotherhood and goodness.

I have always been intrigued by the tale of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and found it difficult to believe that only four could determine man’s fate.

Yet now I have come to realize a group of madmen with homemade bombs can harness that power and engage a world into a battle for the soul of humanity.

It doesn’t take a genius to understand that it is in many ways simple math. The world population has exploded and with it has come more good people but many many more evil ones.

Society has found a way to condone crime in its cities, destroy law and order and create a chaotic existence for all people good and bad.

Was this the dream? Was this our goal as we sang kumbaya and just assumed all mankind was in agreement with our philosophy?

How could we have been so naïve as to think evil wouldn’t take advantage of our foolishness and plunge the world into darkness?

Now the war is here and it has come down to basics. Good versus evil once more. We have been here before, but the question now is, how many innocents will die before evil is defeated once again?

As the Peter Paul and Mary song asked, “When will they ever learn?” I may be crazy, but I know an inciteful song lyric when I hear one. Sadly, I just don’t know the answer.

To All The Words I’ve Loved Before

To All the Words I’ve Loved Before

“To all the girls I’ve loved before. Who’ve traveled in and out my door…”  Willie Nelson

Years ago Willie Nelson wrote a song dedicated to all the girls he’d loved before. Thinking about the words conjured up memories of all the books I’ve written before. Of course the fact I have been cleaning out my file cabinet and come across many an unfinished tome might have had something to do with those thoughts.

So as I perused the unfinished manuscripts about old movie star houses in Beverly Hills, girls wanting to be eaten by a shark, the Viet Nam war and draft dodgers in Toronto, an escape with friends to distant places and even our cat solving a neighborhood mystery along with a few others I wondered what might have happened had they been published or more to the point had I ever finished them.

Looking back at the novel about draft dodgers living in Toronto I can see some obvious problems there. Like perhaps how do you write a book you know nothing about. Okay, so I know youth makes us stupid but why would I think that visiting Toronto on so many occasions would make me an expert on the Viet Nam war or living in hiding? Or even being drafted?  Not quite up my alley and of course there is no way I could have ever finished that book. Oh sure I could have interviewed people who lived that life, and many authors have done well using that formula, I am not one of them however. I myself have always subscribed to the old adage…”write about what you know” and in my experience I understand why.

I must always feel passionate about what I write. And although at the time I am feeling excited about a book’s possibilities my energy level begins to subside when I realize how little I know about my character’s experiences.

So what does this have to do with anything actually? I’m sure there are many writers that have begun many books only to discard them when their passion waned, so why am I feeling particularly sad about these long forgotten tomes? And why am I certain the way I feel probably has nothing whatsoever to do with Viet Nam, sharks or even Cary Grant’s old home in Beverly Hills.

These unfinished books are merely another reminder of the passage of time and dreams never fulfilled.

Not to become too maudlin about the subject there are many sad things about aging aside from the obvious…aches, pains, loss, the hate you begin to feel for mirrors or any reflective objects.

I truly believe the excitement of new possibilities is one of the best things about being young. Those times when you were over the moon about a new project or adventure looming in the distance ahead. When you jumped out of bed in the morning filled with the joy of entering a new world of discovery and unlimited choices only you could make happen.

And now the only chance I have of leaping out of bed at breakneck speed is if someone nearby yells fire or an earthquake shakes me out.

Perhaps it’s that feeling I miss most. The high of a new day fraught with new chapters to be written, new lives to be led and new places to see. I mean of course besides the orthopedist office or dermatologist to find out what that new thing growing on your body is and what the hell?

About now you might be feeling as depressed as someone who can’t find a drug store open when they are pmsing for a Hershey bar at midnight. And no I’m not trying to be a downer here, but perhaps just nostalgic for the old days when I felt that anticipation of the leap into a new dimension, a new planet of the possible. Is there really a damn Multi-verse and how do I get there?

I am fighting the it’s-too-late blues daily but I’m beginning to get the I’m-moving syndrome. You know that place you find yourself in when you are moving out of your home and you need to replace a rosebush but you won’t buy one because you won’t be around to see it grow so you are in limbo and can’t move forward. You’re stuck in the mire of why do it if I’m going to move land? I hate that place. I hate not being able to embrace the new. 

My parents refused to buy new windows. Oh sure their house was fifty years old and desperately needed them, but they were in their eighties and felt like why bother in a few years we’ll sell the house or be dead anyway. Hmm, maybe that’s where I got it.

Yep we all know someone like that. The why redecorate people or the why do I need a new dress people or the why travel in this scary new world folks.

As bad as it was before it’s worse now after the pandemic. I actually have friends who don’t like to leave the house anymore. So now even more are spending their life getting all their kicks from the new movie on Netflix or reruns on Hulu or heaven help us all the real housewives. Talk about an oxymoron, there’s nothing real about those chicks.

So why have I brought you down this sad Willie Nelson inspired path? Is it to remind us all how limited life becomes as we age or perhaps something very different? Stay with me here it gets better, I promise.

When I pulled out the books I realized something else after the depression lifted; each book is a new possibility; a new chapter to be written and something challenging ahead.

I can buy a new rose bush now or fix the windows or finish that great American novel because there is a huge difference at this age. This age. That’s right, although many unwanted things come with getting older the accumulation of wisdom is not one of them. When I was in my thirties writing about draft dodging I had no life experience to add to the discussion. How did shopping give me insight into the fear of going to war? What did I know about leaving home and starting over in a new place. Well I sure as hell do now.

Every book I began needed to congeal and coalesce and become its best self. Or perhaps I did.

What is the point of obtaining wisdom if we don’t use it to our advantage?

So what I’m actually trying to say here is that the dreams, plans and possibilities of youth are more exciting and closer to you now. Whatever you wished for fifty years ago you can accomplish more easily now, despite age and slowing down a bit.

You can paint that masterpiece, learn to play piano, write that self help book, tap dance, refurbish that cabinet, open that boutique or even take that cruise around the world. An old friend of mine just wrote a book about his experiences in the music business fifty years ago.

The best part is seeing it through the eyes of life experience and not the naïveté of youth.

One of the benefits of aging is the ability to see things clearly. Hindsight is indeed twenty twenty and maybe that’s why we remember forty years ago so well, but not last week. Seeing life though the lens of a lifetime of moments lived, lessons learned and loves given and returned or spurned is a beautiful approach to anything you wish to accomplish. 

So now I’m settling in to reread that Viet Nam book while you all start that long ago abandoned project. I’m sure the next Jane Austin or Rembrandt is among my readers. Of course you are. Good luck and let me know how it’s all coming along. 

Life on Planet Looney Tunes

Life on Planet Looney Tunes

I can’t even believe that Father Time has turned out to be such an abusive bastard.

Is it not awful enough that he sucks the minutes from us like a tornado moving through Kansas? Now he has allowed a pandemic to steal a year from our ever-growing shorter lives.

Thanks Father Time, may the bird of paradise fly up your diaper.

As if it’s not enough we have to contend with living in captivity, the world has literally gone so mad I’m seriously convinced I left the planet and am now residing on Planet Looney Tunes in the That’s-all-Folks galaxy.

Recently, I was watching Bye Bye Birdie and suddenly I thought, hey, wait a minute. This was my life. What happened to innocence, civility, decency, respect and embracing the simple pleasures?

I must be living in a parallel universe where crazy is the law of the land and everything is upside down.

It’s as if we’re reliving the dream of our teenage years, spending our time sitting in front of the television, sleeping in and eating whatever and whenever we choose.

Well at least that was the dream then anyway.

It took years to achieve the freedom to live our lives as we wish and now we’re on a time out in our rooms for something we never did.  
The first clue I landed on Planet Looney Tunes was the masses paying thousands for Pelotons that covered the planet as far as the eye could see. People peddling for their life and sweating while some voice yelled at them from the great beyond. Isn’t relaxation supposed to be about quiet time?

I stopped riding bikes when my Schwinn rusted out and my tuchas lost all its fat, flattened out and the bicycle seat became my enemy.

On Looney Tunes, mobs rule, children disrespect their teachers and refuse to put down their cell phones, and anyone who attempts to change lanes while driving gets the universal middle finger signal.

When we were young we weren’t allowed to sit all day and watch television, we were castigated for overeating too many sweets, and were threatened with no television for not finishing our Brussel Sprouts. UGH! I hate those things to this day.

What has happened to our lives?

Every generation has been negatively impacted by the challenges of this craziness foisted upon us. Baby Boomers can’t cruise, tour countries they’ve never seen or play mah jong or canasta.

Children miss attending school with their friends. It’s sad they’re being deprived of their childhoods; attending class, playing outdoors, forming cliques and trying to survive high school.

I’m not saying childhood is perfect by any means, but how will our children cope with life if they’re never allowed to interact with the nice and not so nice?

Every generation faces difficulties, but I’m convinced it’s the way you emerge from challenges that matters. It is a plus that families are spending more time together. Well, for most families anyway.

I can’t even imagine how awful it was for our parents and grandparents during World War II when they endured four years of fears, rationing and the loss of loved ones without Netflix, Amazon or the Internet.

Can you imagine how much worse it would have been for everyone if they could’ve live streamed the Blitz or Pearl Harbor?

Sure this is awful, but four years of wondering if your sons, brothers, husbands, nephews or neighbors would ever return from Europe or the Pacific was bloody awful.

Perhaps our parents were tough because of the war. Perhaps we are powder puffs because aside from 9/11 we’ve had it relatively easy.

No, I’m not forgetting Viet Nam, the Cold War, John Kennedy’s assassination or Monica Lewinsky’s blue dress, but unless you lost someone in Nam, aside from the sadness we felt for those who did, our lives went on.

Aside from all the unnecessary death caused by that war, the saddest memory for me was the way our returning soldiers were treated. They’d been sent to a war for no other reason than to satisfy the egos of powerful men and made to pay a terrible price.

So yes, Viet Nam was a sad, horrible time, but I’m not certain it impacted the world as we are now experiencing.

Now we face another world war and because it’s biological it’s frightening and frustrating. We can’t pick up a rifle and shoot it, we can’t spy on it or run it over with a tank or nuke it with atom bombs. We can’t even force it to watch reruns of Petticoat Junction.

This is a new enemy, more evil than any we’ve seen. It’s as if China bottled the DNA from the most evil Nazi’s, put it in a test tube and loosed it on the world.

We are forced to cower in our caves like our ancestors when a wild boar sought them out. They had no weapons except a club or a rock.

As Albert Einstein was purported to have said, “I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.”

I guess somewhere along the way we luckily missed World War III because it seems we’re back to sticks and stones.

At the end of the day when, as all things do this pandemic passes, the better question is; into what kind of world will we return? Will our current struggles propel us forward as better people in a kinder, more civilized society or will we continue to be angry, bitter and volatile toward one another?

Have we learned as in the past after world wars that peace, love and sanity are the very building blocks of happiness or will we continue down a road of divisiveness and conflict?

I for one will be happy to be outside enjoying my life once again, spending my moments out of captivity doing as I wish. I just pray we can all celebrate being together again in a positive way right here on Planet Earth, and create a better world than ever before.

Charlie Tuna’s Bait and Switch and is This Our New Reality?

chickenportabello

Charlie Tuna’s Bait and Switch and is This Our New Reality?

If anyone wonders why one would think of Charlie Tuna at a time when the world is in chaos it seems very reasonable to me. I’m not sure if it’s the chocolate binges that have led me to these crazy, out-there theories and ramblings, but take the ride with me. What the heck? What else do we have to do after binge watching Ozark?

Right now most of us seem possessed with escaping from the turmoil of the outside world and building a safe harbor within our homes and minds.

Although too many are cavalier about the imminent dangers surrounding us at every turn, many have sought refuge in the past and the refrigerator, although not necessarily in that order.

I’ve been surprised and delighted lately at how many have responded positively and vocally to my waxing nostalgic about my youth in Detroit and desire to recall as many wonderful memories as I can from what seems to me now, a magical time in our history. A time when streets were safe, life was innocent and children were in awe of a puppet or seeing the peacock’s feathers in color on a television set. When everyone on the block rushed to see the first color TV, listened for the good humor man and compared collections of 45 records as though they were gold coins worth a fortune. Life made sense.

When the new Hi Fi was delivered I wondered how I’d ever learn to work this new state-of-the-art device. I was so happy when I learned to stick the plastic middle piece into my forty fives to make them fit over the spindle thingy on the turntable without breaking the record. Pretty high tech stuff huh? Now I wrestle with megabytes and artificial intelligence.

No, I’m not digressing from the whole Charlie Tuna headline at all, just merely leading up to a point I wish to convey. Perhaps Charlie Tuna had it right after all. If the whole world was looking for tunas “wit good taste,” Charlie would produce artwork or whatever he needed to do to prove himself. However, as he was reminded in the commercial, “Star-Kist don’t want tunas wit good taste, they want tunas that taste good.”

Yes, we all remember the old commercials where Charlie struggles to be selected by Star-Kist, a company so picky they thumbed their nose at Charlie, an obvious star and continued to reject his constant advances.

And how did we react to his dilemma? We loved Charlie and although we sympathized with his rejection, we were torn by the thought of the company relenting and putting him in a can on our supermarket shelf.

As I’ve said before, we were very innocent. But Charlie’s quandary seemed to teach him a valuable lesson that now goes unnoticed; distraction will save your ass.

Yes, without noticing, Charlie pulled the greatest bait and switch, pun intended, in history. Have you ever wondered why all anyone can talk about nowadays is salmon?

It’s all about the salmon. How healthy and full of good omegas they are. How sustainable they can be raised. How you can’t go to a damn dinner party and not find a slab of pink fish in front of you.

I for one dislike salmon unless it is dressed up like Cinderella for the ball or on a bagel loaded with cream cheese, and have struggled with why we have recently experienced this great love for salmon.

So because I have little to do except check the refrigerator for new food that may have snuck in while I wasn’t looking, I gave it some thought.

I’m convinced this is a plot hatched up by some undercover Charlie Tuna with the help of the Mossad (I have to infer that any food-related plots would defer to Israel) to distract people and turn them off tuna and onto salmon.

Why you ask would Charlie do this when he has always been a big proponent of tuna? Simple, pressure from a tuna mafia that simply got tired of having their tush chased all over the ocean.

Distraction is the perfect vehicle. It allows anyone with an agenda to perform under a cover of whatever they wish and we are easily fooled.

So the big boy tunas sat down with Charlie and laid it on the line, “Stop pushing the tuna or we’ll push you back hard.”

So Charlie possessing a desire for survival decided to secretly exploit a salmon agenda in an increasingly health-conscious society that believes salmon is the filet mignon of the fish world.

Smart move, Charlie. Salmon is now king and the poor fish is dead in the water, literally. Sad after all that work to swim upstream.

If this seems like a long way to go to make a point, it’s not so far as you’d think.

We are inundated today with distractions and being force-fed a steady diet of craziness, fear and distrust.

We are stressed over the news that changes hourly from one extreme to another. Masks, no masks, ventilators bad, no good, who knows anymore, you can catch COVID19 if your neighbor sneezes two blocks away, wait that’s six feet, lock down, go out, occupy the streets, take back our streets, police or no police, I guess if you’re in trouble you can call Rin Tin Tin to save you. Is Joe Biden still alive in the basement or is it a hologram? Is Trump self destructing on purpose or does he have some devious plan? Did Lincoln free the slaves or was he a racist? Is Congress as useless as an old girdle without any elastic left? Oh sorry that one is a no brainer, yes, Congress is useless, no quandary there.

No wonder people are hiding in their homes eating themselves into oblivion. Is all this craziness an attempt to distract us from what’s really happening and if so they’re doing a hellava job, because I don’t have a clue.

We’ve all lived through crazy times before. Viet Nam, the Cold War, Watergate, Bill Clinton’s women, Tiananmen Square, 9/11, the list goes on, but this is different, a complete switch from tuna to salmon.

This is a whole new breed of chaos and even the strongest of us have no idea what to make of it all.

Our generation is tough, but where once there were answers that made even a little sense, now there are none, and it’s a scary place to be.

So now that they’ve switched us off tuna and onto salmon I have two questions; first, what is behind this salmon switch and second, who is the real Charlie Tuna and what is he ultimately up to?

Yes, it’s unsettling and I feel like I’m living through an episode of The Twilight Zone.

And I think I hear Rod Serling’s voice now: “For your consideration, a world that once made sense now filled with strange happenings that cannot be explained. Is this truly reality or has the present descended into what these people will soon awaken to and find makes perfect sense in the new world within the Twilight Zone?”

Anyone for a tuna sandwich on whole wheat with chips in a little paper cup? I thought so. And tell ‘em Charlie sent ya.

Chicken Stuffed Portobello

4 large Portobello mushrooms cleaned

1 large or two small chicken breasts

1/4 cup celery chopped

1 cup grated Fontina cheese

1 cup shredded Parmesan Reggiano cheese

½ cup heavy cream

½ cup mayo

½ cup sliced almonds

1 heaping tablespoon of Panko crumbs

2 tablespoons of chopped sweet onions, sautéed with the celery

Salt and pepper

Cook and season chicken breast until soft. You can poach it in broth or water and wine. After shredding chicken breast combine with all other ingredients except Parmesan Reggiano.

Salt and pepper to taste

Fill the mushroom caps with chicken mixture and cover with Parmesan Reggiano. You may add sautéed spinach or tomatoes if you’d like.

Place on a greased baking sheet and bake at 350 for 20 minutes until warmed through and cheese is melted on top. Serve with soup and salad for a great easy supper.