Mystery Food: Deep Sea Finger Lobster

What was this?

I saw this 1977 Sizzler ad on Pinterest and it gave me a flashback to this 1983 commercial.

I’m not an expert at seafood (I’m actually allergic to it and I'm also revolted by the smell.) But even back then, this sounded suspicious. Because I have never heard of this type of lobster before. Ever.

And I’ve never heard of it since. So what was it? Lobsters shaped like an obscene gesture?

My first hunch then and the one I still hold now was baby lobsters. The inevitable trawler bycatch that wouldn’t satisfy any serious hardcore lobster lover. But served in quantity with a mouthwatering new name and target it to trendy young adults? New menu item.

So I did some research. And this is what I came up with under “Deep Sea Finger Lobster”: Nothing.

No scientific Latin name, no sub-species listing. No taxology of any kind.

As far as I know, they were only sold at Sizzler restaurants. However some have mentioned other places where this was available.

Any clues?

The Legend Of KLEE-TV

Like some broadcasting ghost story, it gets told again and again.

But like many urban legends, there is a grain of truth underneath the embellishment.

Image: The Pecan Park Eagle

This is the story.

In 1958, Reader's Digest magazine published an article on how one mysterious afternoon in 1953, a signal showing the station ID card of KLEE-TV, Houston, TX appeared on TV sets throughout the UK - three years after KLEE-TV was sold and their call letters had changed to KPRC-TV.

Now here's the grain of truth: It's not uncommon for local over the air radio/TV signals to reach crazy distances under the right atmospheric conditions. It's a phenomena that happens every night on the AM radio band. But more rarely on FM and TV. But they still happen there.

Overseas reception of FM and TV signals is the rarest of all of what is known as "DXing", an actual hobby amongst radio/TV fans who surf over our ever increasingly noisy airwaves, trying to find those far off stations from hundreds, or even thousands of miles away on locally empty frequencies that can make brief appearances from a few seconds to even an hour or more on FM radio and TV. There are several online web sites and chat boards for DXers.

When you did find a far off station, the receiver of the signal would track down the address of the station and send them a confirmation of what they heard and at what time. To which the station engineer would send back something called a QSL card, which was like a postcard (which it was) with the station logo on them. Engineers used to look forward to getting these letters, as it was a testament to his/her engineering skills.

They don't send out QSL cards anymore (the last one I got was in 1982.) and there are far fewer broadcast engineers today than there were in those days.

In fact, the last convention of broadcast engineers I saw could have been mistaken for an AARP gathering with the number of grey, white and bald heads I saw there. And when they're gone, I'm not sure who is going to take their place. Not many young people seem to be taking up the profession.



But here's the letdown.

First, all broadcast signals fade away into the ether eventually. They cannot reflect back from a different time. If they could, the airwaves would be a far bigger mess today than they already are, considering all that has been transmitted over the last 100 years on every frequency around the world.

Second, the transmitting system of the UK is PAL. The US uses NTSC. Both are digital today, but were then - and still are - hopelessly incompatible with each other. You could not see NTSC video on a PAL TV set and vice versa without a very expensive, very large (which NO housewife would tolerate in the living room) and in the end, useless conversion system

Third, the transmission carrier frequencies of US and UK TV were also different.

And finally, it was all a hoax to sell TV sets in England:

"As it turned out, in a particularly clever marketing effort, a would-be British entrepreneur had sent a form letter to all U.S. TV stations making the claim that their station’s signal had recently been viewed in the UK. For proof, the sender included what appeared to be a photo of that station’s test pattern on a TV screen. Hoping to peddle a TV set he claimed could receive broadcasts from extreme distances, the sender had been working from an old list that did not reflect the Houston station’s change of hands.

All the other TV stations getting the letter tossed it. But when the letter from England got forwarded to KPRC, someone thought it looked like news and the station did a story on it. The Houston station soon figured out what the sender of the letter had been up to, but by then it was too late and yet another urban myth had been born. Like a radio wave moving ever deeper into space, it continues to live on...." - Mike Cox, The Great Texas/British TV Hoax of 1953

Suicidal Depression: An Open Confession

I've never came forward with this publicly beyond my inner circle of friends and a few family members. But the suicide of Robin Williams yesterday hit just a little too close to home.

And I have a confession to make; I suffer from chronic depression with suicidal tendencies with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and anxiety. (I also have Asperger's and Cogan's Syndrome.)

There. I've said it.

It's not easy to come clean with any kind of mental illness. It's like a gay person publicly coming out of the closet. You just don't know what to expect. Will people you've been very close to begin avoiding you? Will they try and overcompensate for any perceived wrongdoings on their part (which is just as disturbing as avoidance.)

Or will they begin to take advantage of you, mock you, condescend you and use what you are as a weapon against you? Or in more egregious cases, to take control of you?

Having lived with this since I was a teenager (although I remember having symptoms, including suicidal thoughts as young as 5), it's nothing you just "get over".

Everyone has problems. Everyone hurts. But most people bounce back and carry on. People with depression cannot do this without therapy, if at all. They live with a low self-esteem, and a constant feeling of hopelessness and worthlessness that cannot be overcome by personal achievements, success or popularity. For me, it's life behind two-way glass. You know others see something remarkable in you. But you don't. You just see a reflection of the same person you wished was never born.

Robin Williams is an example of this. He was one of the most successful, popular and beloved comedians in history. He had everything. He could do whatever he wanted. But he still couldn't do what most people take for granted and that's feel it within himself. Money can't buy that. And there's no magical "happy pill" for it. If there was, I'd be eating those things like popcorn.

I fought back tears all day today. Because I saw so much of myself in Robin. Because we both used a sense of humour and a happy-go-lucky personality to camouflage the real person underneath that thick veneer. We wanted to be understood, but afraid of what would happen if someone doesn't. Or even if they actually did.
 
I take several pills daily, including Wellbutrin, Risperdal and Zoloft. I also smoke marijuana to relieve acute feelings of depression. Pills and cannabis alone do nothing but control the brain chemical balances enough to where you can function at a certain level. And it's only a small part of the equation. It also takes therapy, friends, family and a routine to keep you focused and someone to talk to when it gets too much.   

For others, depression is so crippling that they cannot even leave their homes. And some rely on public assistance to get by.

You just don't understand humiliation until someone tells you to "Suck it up!" Or "You're faking it" or "You're lazy". Or "selfish", a "worry-wart" or any number of insensitive and thoughtless things. I have actually been told "If you want to die so bad, why don't you just kill yourself and rid the world of another useless idiot like you". I'm embarrassed to say it, but there are actually people like that in the world.

NOBODY wants to live this way. I never raised my hand in second grade and said "When I grow up, I want to have feelings of hopelessness and despair, to fight back thoughts of killing myself daily and to take pills every day to function at the most basic level of human existence."

Depression is not an alternative lifestyle. Depression is not a fun and easy lifestyle. It's the closest thing to hell in the human condition.

I wish I could say that the medications alone changed my life. That I could say that things suddenly got brighter and life was suddenly worth living, that I could smile genuinely and feel the same happiness I see in others. But I can't. Even with the best medication and therapy, I still have to carry on with a void and emptiness nothing could fill. It's like feeling like you don't have a soul. You know you have one, you have empathy and compassion for others. You feel their pain, but you just can't describe your own. And that's what makes depression so hard to talk to people about. You feel so guilty and ashamed for needing anyone's help. And nobody likes a whiner.

So you take it out in one of two ways - some do it internally through self destruction. Or externally by lashing out at others.

Or the third way; Get help. I took things out internally. Even if they weren't my fault.  And I'm just learning to unlearn that behaviour. But it's going to take time I'm 45 now and I'm sure that had I not gotten the help I did, I would not be here telling you this.

I still fight minute by minute with feelings of worthlessness. That nobody cares about me (In fact, I generally feel that most people hate me, that I am unworthy of the time of day from them, let alone their attention.) That I am not worth knowing or loving. And that everything would be better if I just didn't exist. Not a day goes by that I don't think of how much relief I would get from something that would suddenly end my life. And my pain.

It's hard to tell what is worse. The pain of dying or the pain of living. I have the worst of both worlds; The pain of living a dying life.

I have lived with this all my life. When I was 13, a family member went and dumped rocket fuel on a smoldering, but then containable fire with years of verbal and emotional abuse to the point I began attempting suicide in earnest (This is the source of my PTSD. And I have only spoken to this person only once and only through e-mail in the last 18 years.) I have been hospitalized many times from suicide attempts, several of them nearly successful, including a three week coma. Even psychiatry specialists were baffled  

But another day comes and the sun rises. I take my pills and put on that happy-go-lucky facade. I find something weird or memorable and I talk about it here. And there are days I simply can't do that at all. In part because I also have arthritis and my joints hurt constantly, but much of the time, I'm too sad to talk about anything. It's my brain chemistry roller coaster in action.

There are also times the sky clears up and I feel some mediocre level of peace. I cherish those moments more than anything else whatsoever. Because they are so rare. But suddenly, I'm back down the spiral and I'm contemplating suicide again. It's crazy, I know. But please bear with me. Because this is the only life I have ever known.

I pray everyday the next day will be the one I feel okay. Or the one that never comes. The day I never wake up. But here I am still.  For now.

Sometimes I wonder why I keep doing it. And is this my life? To give others what I can never feel inside? To put a smile on the faces of strangers when I can't smile at all or even feel the happiness that creates a sincere smile? Without being told to? It doesn't make sense.

Starting this blog is one of the ways I'm learning to cope with my depression. To create that "happy place" where I could escape without bringing everybody down. To touch on things we have forgotten or are unknown to others. I carried around most of this information for most of my life and here, I have an outlet to dump all that. As well as act as a distraction from the bad news of today with something positive. Or weird.

I don't like to talk about bad news here - especially about myself. But this is one of those rare moments I have to get a certain weight off my shoulders FTW.  

But every once in a while, I get a message like this and for a little while, I feel like there's new hope.

 It's hard for me to understand this effect I have on some people. I'm flattered by it but at the same time, confused by it. I never saw myself worthy of any kind of praise. I should be proud of myself. But I feel uncomfortable doing that. Who am I to wave my own flag? My denial sometimes gets to the point I actually think they are talking about someone else named Larry.

But in some small way, if I made someone's day in some small redundant way, I might have what it takes to carry on for the rest of the day. But I wake up again and I'm back at square one. Is this life worth carrying on? I feel like a time bomb.

But never forget this; Little things do mean a LOT to someone with depression. You can't fix depression. There is no cure for it and there's lot of trial and error to find the right treatment plan (the one I have is very limited in it's success. It keeps it barely under control, but not much else. At least I have that. Depression has different effects for different people and no two treatment plans are ever the same.)

Most of all, it takes very special people. Those with positively reinforcing energy (and it's not some special super-hero power. If you are anyone's friend, you already have it.)

I don't expect miracles. But I guess if I can't find internal happiness, I'll accept the next best thing, a momentary peace of mind. And just swing from limb to limb on those alone.

Maybe I will finally find a way to stop feeling like this. Maybe they will finally invent that "happy pill" that changes everything - if artificially. Or a brain surgery that removes the part that's hurting me.

I'll do anything. Just make it stop.

I know there are people who care and worry about me. People who would be devastated without me and tell me so. It is for those people I struggle to carry on for. 
 
I'm trying to carry on. That's all I can do. But sometimes, it is so hard.....

Separated At Birth?

Florida Governor Rick Scott

The Weekly World News Bat Boy

Horrifying Vintage Meal Ideas

The Strange and Mysterious History of the Ouija Board

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history-archaeology/The-Strange-and-Mysterious-History-of-the-Ouija-Board-229532101.html

Yma Sumac

Yma Sumac "Voice of The Xtabay" (10" inch LP, 1952) Right here is where "Exotica" music began.....

Before Minnie Riperton and Mariah Carey, Peruvian singer Yma Sumac was considered to have the widest vocal range of any known singer, over FIVE octaves (that's a range going nearly the entire human vocal spectrum, from a gut-deep basso to an ear piercing C-note. The best opera singers can barely accomplish two octaves.)


But WHO was she?

She was reportedly descended from the last Incan emporer, Atahualpa (although no DNA evidence was ever presented, it's a claim supported by the Peruvian government.)

It was also claimed in the 1950s she was nothing more than a housewife from Brooklyn named Amy Camus (and "Yma Sumac" was this name backwards.) However, that rumor has been discredited by several Peruvian and Argentinian records she recorded for Odeon in the late 1930s and early 1940s.

The shellac doesn't lie......

Her popularity peaked in the 1950s during the hi-fi craze. Her exotic look, music and voice made her very popular with young hi-fi fans. In fact, before the first formal hi-fi demonstration albums, it was her records that were the bench test of hi-fi enthusiasts.

One of her most famous was Mambo! (10" inch LP, 1955)

 

Here's Side One.....

Yma Sumac died November 1, 2008.


 

Do YOU Dream about THIS Man?

He kinda looks like Donald Fagen of Steely Dan...



But THOUSANDS of people say they've had a dream about him

http://thisman.org/

Personally, I think they fell asleep listening to Katy Lied.......

Curly Toes

Back in the '70s, someone found a homemade recording on a cassette that was thrown out, lost or abandoned. The story of how it was found....and who found it...and where is unknown.

The recording, which had circulated in the tape underground for decades, was that of a woman with a Southern accent, probably middle aged (or a young smoker.)

She sings an a cappela song on a cheap cassette recorder of doing a burlesque striptease for her boyfriend, some, um...lucky guy named "Ben"

Nobody knows who sang this. Or who our lucky Ben is. But everyone who's ever heard this wonders if she really wrote this or just ad-libbed her way through it. But they all had the same look of catatonic shock you'll probably have upon hearing this, before busting out in uncontrollable laughter. Or have to swallow a whole bottle of Advil just to cope with this woman's migraine-inducing singing in their heads the rest of the day...

You can find this on Irwin Chusid's Songs In The Key of Z, Vol. 2 compilation of outsider music. LOADS of bizarre musical oddities on these discs.

The YouTuber who posted this dedicated it to Bettie Page: