My uncle Walter is on the front lawn. I did not say in the front lawn, because that would imply that he is out there doing something – looking for lost keys, maybe, or digging up earthworms for bait. But I said on the front lawn because he’s not doing anything, just lying on his back. He’s been out there all night.

My uncle Walter pops in and out of our lives every few years . He’ll show up in the summer, when the Florida heat gets too bad, stay for a few months and leave when school starts. This time he showed up on a buggy evening in June, in an old RV that he parked it in the dirt side of our driveway and that he insists on sleeping in every night, even though Mom said he could sleep on the pull-out. He brought fresh-Florida oranges in big wooden crates, but now there are big “Florida bugs” creeping around our kitchen.

My brother doesn’t really like Uncle Walter, because he calls him “Abe” instead of “Gabe” and because sometimes he’s bossy, but now Dad has somebody to go fishing with and sometimes my Dad and Uncle Walter will stay out on the porch until really late, drinking beers from a can and laughing and smoking their pipes.

Uncle Walter isn’t really my uncle. He’s my Grandmother’s adopted brother. I guess he’d be my great uncle, if he were actually my uncle. But really, Uncle Walter is an old man and I don’t think he has anywhere else to go; so now he is on our front lawn, covered in morning dew and mosquito bites, squinting at the rising sun.

We hadn’t seen my Uncle Walter for a few years before he showed up that day in June, and when we don’t see Uncle Walter, we don’t hear from him either. But he filled us in. He had a trailer near the Everglades in Florida, and his own plot of land. He got by on his retirement savings, but worked at the state liquor store for the insurance which he needed because he had gotten prostate cancer. He was two years in remission now, he explained, and thought a dose of the New Hampshire air would “do him good. “

My mother is pacing around the kitchen now, looking out the window with every other step. Uncle Walter’s white undershirt is wet with dew and it clings to his fleshy pink belly. His steel blue eyes are open and even from the window you can see the sunlight glinting off them. His huge stomach heaves up and down with his breath.

My mother turns away from the window and leans against the sink. She tells me and my brother that Uncle Walter believes his cancer to be back. He says he can feel it, she explains, though he hasn’t been to see the doctor. My uncle Walter takes one more long inhalation of New Hampshire air, sweet with rotting leaves, soil and left-over pipe tobacco and rises. He studies his mosquito-bitten arms and starts toward his RV.

He turns to the house to see all of us looking out the window. “Just heading to the store,” he calls. I watch his RV pull awkwardly out of the driveway and I know that it is the last time I will ever see my Uncle Walter.

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Well, it’s that time of year again. Holiday Fun Time! And, if you’re anything like me, you usually wait until the weekend before your holiday of choice to get your shopping done… er, started. You brave the mall with a bunch of crazed maniacs and a hangover, and inevitably, you never quite find what you’re looking for. You likely way overextend your budget in an attempt to disguise your procrastination, and often end up with a slightly impersonal gift, wrapped in really pretty paper with a big shiny bow.

This year, I’ve decided to take a stand. I’m not going to buy one tiny (yet always overpriced) item for every member of my boyfriend’s family, or each of my roommates, or every coworker. No more $16 tubes of branded lip-gloss, no more wind-chimes or gift certificates; no more scarf/hat/mittens sets from Target; no more purses that I can’t afford and can’t guarantee the recipient will like. This year, I’m doing it old-school. I’m making up some swank-ass gift baskets for the whole family, and I think you should too.

Skip Generic, it's time for a little DIY

Now, the key to making gift-baskets work is to skip the generic, store-bought, prepackaged, two-for-one-deal baskets they sell at Bath-and-Body Works, Wal-Mart or Kitchen etc. and put the baskets together yourself. You can make your baskets big or small, extravagant or modest, themed or random, selective or amalgamated, but most importantly, and here’s where you come in- they should be personal, and they should feel indulgent.
My basket is for a whole family, so it’s gonna be packed.

I’m planning an understated wicker basket, lined with some pretty cloth or other that will fit nicely into my boyfriend’s mothers’ “country-home” aesthetic (tiny colorful houses, quilt patterns or antiquey finishes). Then on to the good stuff: a gourmet jam or two, some classy crackers, some olive tapenade, a few select cheeses (port-wine pub cheese, soft brie and garlic smoked gouda, perhaps?), a small cheese knife (and maybe a cheese board), a pepperoni stick, nuts, several kinds of homemade cookies and/or fudge, homemade chocolate dipped pretzel rods (rolled in crushed walnuts and coconut!), gourmet hot-chocolate, gourmet coffee, homemade chocolate stirring spoons, homemade chocolate dipped candy canes, and, the clincher: two framed photographs of the smiling family on the receiving end.

Make it Personal

The basket is an amalgamation of everyone’s favorites: cheeses, dips and olives for the sisters, chocolate and homemade goodies for mom (plus the personalized basket), coffee and hot-chocolate for the brother and photographs to make everyone go “awww.” The best part: I’ll put the whole thing together for less than the three $20 gift certificates to the mall I otherwise might have resorted to (notice the liberal use of the world “homemade” in the above paragraph.)
My basket is jam-packed, because it’s meant for a whole family with differing tastes, likes and dislikes, but you can theme your basket around just about anything and anyone. Try some of the suggestions below, and see what you come up with.

A Few Ideas

Chocolate

Everyone loves chocolate. You really can’t go wrong. And chocolate gift baskets are really easy. A canister of gourmet hot chocolate or some nice hot fudge in a pretty jar can be your centerpiece. Bake some double-chocolate-chip cookies for filler. Add some unique flavors of chocolate (like spicy chili, honey, or extra-dark) and round it out with homemade chocolate dipped anything! From fruits to pretzels, what doesn’t taste good dredged in chocolate?

Wine

Know your recipients' preferences. If they love deep reds, choose a velvety Cabernet. If they’re into crisp, fruity flavors, choose a bright pinot grigio. Then, build from there. Find brands they likely haven’t tried, and don’t fall for gimmicks. Ask a clerk at your local wine or liquor store for his or her favorite and ask them why. Then, get a unique bottle or two. Add two wine glasses (i love stemless glasses
- very modern), some cheese, crackers, nuts or chocolate and include a cute bottle-opener or wine stopper
.

Breakfast

Breakfast baskets are great, if you know your recipient will use them. Make a couple of your own pancake or waffle mixes and put it in a nice jar. Splurge for some real maple syrup (so worth it) Add a few packets of freshly ground coffee and two matching (yet inexpensive) mugs, and you’re done!

Cooking

Perfect for the chef in your life, a cooking basket can feature any number of surprises. You choose a meal-in-one type basket, where you'll surround your gift around one particular meal by adding gourmet pasta and sauce (using a colander for your basket), or homemade dough and an array of pizza toppings (arranged on a pizza stone), for example; or you can choose a hodgepodge of kitchen staples like unique marinades and sauces (think curry, pineapple-teriyaki or brown-sugar molasses), spices and rubs, gourmet oils (rosemary, lemon, garlic or pepper infused are always big hits) and few kitchen tools (like a Parmesan cheese grater, a cute apron or some colorful kitchen towels).

And your basket doesn't have to be filled with edibles. Put together a massage basket for a hard-working couple with a few scented oils, candles, some wood-rollers and a how-to book. Or a survival kit for the athlete or outdoor adventurer in your life with items like a flashlight, hand-warmers, chap-stick, trail-mix, wool socks, a knife, a flint and a compass.

The bottom line is that you can make a thoughtful, personal gift-basket for just about anyone, without overextending your budget. If money is tight, fill your basket with homemade goodies like cookies, fudge, seven-layer bars and dessert mixes. Your recipient will appreciate your effort and hard work, you'll save a bundle, and you might even have fun doing it.

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Boy o boy have I ever been busy! After claiming second prize at the Third Annual Ghetto Dinner Party, I paused to reflect deeply on my victory in a deeply meditative state that to the casual observer would look like a miserable hangover. Of course, those are for lesser, unenlightened creatures. I and my newly acquired Robert Goulet record could easily ward off such maladies by the sheer force of our presence alone.

Nevertheless, my period of contemplative repose is past, and it will soon be time to unlease new and exciting things upon you like the fury of a thousand suns. Or at least more than a few posts per week, eh? As a primer for this, I’ve gone back and fixed the post featuring It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia’s original appearance of the Night Man, and added tips on how to get a bigger Sunny fix, if it turns out that Sunny’s your kind of thing.

If you’re lucky, you’ll soon hear from some of RKNet’s favorite people, giving you the lowdown on both the Xbox 360 and PS3 experiences of Fallout 3. If you’re less lucky, you’ll just get the 360 perspective. If you’re even LESS lucky, it won’t be either, or at least not until I’ve gotten to play. All I have to say after catching a few glimpses here and there (I won’t watch, avoiding spoilers you know) is that it is DEFINITELY a Bethesda game. Something about the visuals just screams Elder Scrolls. Well, post-apocalyptic Elder Scrolls if you wanted to get fussy about it, but still. That, and I appreciate that it looks like they took the time to incorporate a little more voice acting variety than was present in Oblivion (for spoiler-potential cast list, clicky clicky).

I’m still looking forward to answering your Android/Googlephone related questions, so fire away. (Please don’t make me pretend to ask questions at myself!) And I’m also looking forward to finishing up the extremely detailed exploration of… my Twitter friends’ favorite colors. It’s so thorough it’s damn near scientific!

Oh and Thanksgiving is right around the corner, so while I’m gorging myself I hope to have some manner of a Words To Know come to me during sweet, tryptophan-induced dreams. Wikipedia says the tryptophan in turkey is no greater than any other kind of poultry AND lists a bunch of other stuff – some fairly common foods – with greater levels of tryptophan. I wonder, is the tryptophan in turkey more bioavailable, or is the sleepiness more easily attributed to the activities leading up to what’s described as “the itus“? (Caution: Auto-starting music on that last link.)

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Call this liberal horse hockey. Call this leftist ideology. Really, you can call it whatever you want, because I don’t give a flying shitcake. If what you get from this post goes anywhere near “anti-American” than you can feel confident that you have severely missed the point and there is a lonely noose in a stuffy room somewhere, looking for a dinner date with you know who.

My hope for this article is for it to be the nailgun-to-the-temple for the chronically confused. Those who think Jason Giambi is an amazing athlete. Those who mistake Irving Kristol for an American Cowboy. Those have never seen a Kohran, a Torah, or a copy of The Bluest Eye. Those who think of Gary Glitter and say, “well… he did have a couple good hits…” These words are for William Donahue, Clarence Thomas, Chris W. Cox, Eliot Spitzer, Dorchen Leidholdt, and the ghost of Isaac Hayes.

“Hey man, leave Black Moses out of it.” Fuck you.

Let me start by saying there are things about John McCain that I really like. He is certainly one of the better representatives from his party. Do I think the forty-fourth old, crusty white-man in a row is what is going to bring change to the White House? No. But is he a decent Republican candidate considering the last couple elections? Yes.

Some people (mostly supporters) have called him a “Maverick.” Let it be known that the only true Mavericks are Mel Gibson and Tom Cruise – and one of them is an undeniable racist, while the other is more out of control than Criss Angel’s ego (and just as creepily homo-erotic). John McCain may have been a Maverick back in his day, but the 1920s are long gone and – while he does maintain some strong attributes – “Maverick” is most certainly a bit of an overstatement.

But this isn’t about John McCain.

This isn’t even really about politics – more about “what the hell are people thinking these days?” What’s that? Get to the damned point, you say? Fine. This post is about McCain’s running mate, Sarah Palin. So let me start my argument off with SARAH PALIN, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?? Have you seen Sarah Palin? Tell me this is a dream. A bad, bad dream. Just when I was starting to think that there may be two interesting Presidential candidates in the upcoming election Father Time from Arizona has an Alzheimer relapse and decides it would be best to pick a retardedly unqualified Governor from a state that many people forget is even part of the damn 50!

If you wanted to win the election by picking a surprise Governor with relatively limited executive experience you should have gone with Arnold. Oh well, John, there is still 2012 – if you’re still alive. I am struggling to understand this move, especially when political analysts and some right-wing pundits are calling it “brave,” “courageous,” and “shit your pants exciting.” I think I have at least enough of a grasp on it to explain why it is a mistake. An unfortunately devastating mistake.

Last week I was engaged in a fly-by interview with a “street team” reporter and subsequently misquoted in a small-circulation newspaper in an article discussing the topic of the GOP vice president hopeful. In my mind this makes me about as qualified to talk about Sarah Palin as Bob Costas is to talk about Olympic trampolining and that didn’t stop him, so buckle up.

Alaska is a beautiful state with many breathtaking natural surroundings and in many cases holds some of the country’s last glimpses into pure wilderness, unspoilt terrain, and incredible wildlife. Alaska is even one the last homes to several endangered and threatened species. Bald Eagle ring a bell? It’s the symbol of our nation.

Did I mention that Sarah Palin wants to drop pipelines and drill into Alaska’s pristine countryside? Well she does.

Let’s pause for a moment to review what we’ve already learned about the potential Vice President. She’s a heartless bitch with zero foresight. More fun facts? Sure thing. Her political career started less than two decades ago, when she was on the city council of Wasilla, Alaska. Oh, haven’t heard of Wasilla? That’s ok, let me reiterate: Less than twenty years ago Palin had very limited weight in trivial decision-making on behalf of less than 5,000 people. How many people are in the U.S.?

In comparison, two decades ago McCain was already representing the entire state of Arizona in the U.S. Senate, commiserating with John Kerry about POW/MIA’s, calling himself a Maverick, and turning 57 years old. So we can tack inexperience on to Palin’s list of incongruence for this gratuitous nomination.

I’m not going to mention that Palin looks like Katey Sagal if she had gone the out of touch, soccer mom, I-only-fuck-when-I-plan-on-popping-out-more-useless-children, Streisand leaves me in stitches, life is swell route, because that would be unfair. I’m also not going to question her personal ethics just because her 17 year old daughter got knocked up by a hillbilly. And furthermore I refuse to suggest that Palin may be slightly if not completely mentally handicapped.

However, I will say this: It’s 2008. I don’t think good change is going to come from someone who’s husband is in the oil business, who supports abstinence education in place of health class (meanwhile her 17 year old is about to dump a “fully supported grandchild” out of her vagina), who opposes gay rights and same-sex marriage, who is in favor of destroying national parks in her home state to drill for oil, who is pro-life and just gave birth to a child with Down Syndrome because she’s an idiot and thinks it’s ok to be reproducing while pushing 45, and is both a creationist and environmentally retarded.

So what do people see in this bitch?

She’s a woman. Yes, that’s all. Sarah Palin was selected by McCain because he wanted people to think that he was a progressive thinker, a political reformer, and yes of course, a Maverick. “Why Palin? There are plenty of decent women in politics.” 1) Palin has yet to fuck anything up on a grand scale (because she has never been in a grand position) and therefore doesn’t foster many haters. 2) It was an impulse purchase, so to speak. <a href=”http://www.onevotematters.com/why-did-mccain-pick-palin/” target=”_blank”>Palin was glanced at</a>, McCain’s ancient brain had a fleeting thought of underdog glory, and he went with his gut feeling. Old people are crazy. 3) McCain is about as boring and dry as Fig Newtons. In order to get some attention he needed a face that at least a few people could stand looking at – and unfortunately in the sad state of affairs here in the good ol’ US of A Sara Palin is somehow considered attractive!

Sorry about that last comment. You may take the time now to brush your teeth if you don’t think you can finish this post with the taste of fresh vomit in your mouth. I’m assuming that point of view comes from sexually repressed, aging individuals with very little to live for. Palin isn’t hideous, but she’s certainly not hot either. All opinions aside, is talk of the “America’s hottest governor” really making national news? Give me a fucking break.

Let’s finish up with a little Q&A: Having a woman in office? Fine by me. McCain picking a woman as a running mate? Still all good. Picking a grotesquely unqualified woman with close-minded ideals and too much make-up? No, no, sir. Now you have crossed the line.

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