L o b a B l a n c a {dot} c o m

Remember my recent coffeemaker containment breach? Well, as I stated, my replacement coffeemaker was to be a Cuisinart. And I promised to write a review once I took it for a spin around the quadrant a few times.

I’m a wolf of my word, denizens.

I ended up going with the Cuisinart DCC-1200 Brew Central 12-cup programmable coffeemaker. I chose the black matte finish because I don’t understand the concept of getting appliances in strange colors or stainless steel (especially when those things cost significantly more than the plain version). I don’t need it to look pretty; I need it to do its job. Besides, the black matte doesn’t show fingerprints or smudges. This is highly important to someone with anal-retentive cleaning habits (coughcough me coughcough).

Even without the bells and whistles exterior, it’s quite a handsome machine:

It also makes, to quote Agent Dale Cooper, “a damn fine cup of coffee. And hot!” Let’s have a closer look at the control panel, shall we?

Here’s the breakdown of what this beauty can do. The “1-4″ button alerts the machine if you’re making a smaller pot of coffee. It then switches into “double heat” mode to compensate for the shorter brew time, which doesn’t allow most coffeemakers to heat the water to the same temperature as if you were making a full pot. I’m going to be honest and say I haven’t tested this option yet. Why would I ever not make a full pot of coffee?

The first knob is for programming the time and the functions that are controlled by the time such as when the coffeemaker turns itself on and how long before it turns itself off.

The second knob controls the temperature of the warming plate on which the carafe rests. This is kind of nice, since it takes into consideration those people who like to use a lot of milk or cream in their coffee. Or freaks who sometimes like their coffee black and screaming hot (coughcough me coughcough). The warming plate includes a small sensor that helps to maintain whatever level of heat you choose.

The last button is for self clean. Self explanatory.

I love several things about this control panel. First, I haven’t had a programmable coffeemaker in years, so to have one again is quite a delight. Also, I love the intuitiveness of the options provided by this machine. People who know and love a good cup of coffee made this coffeemaker, and it shows. I’ve tested it with pre-ground coffee (like the Trader Joe’s seasonal pumpkin spice blend you see in the first photo) and I’ve tested it with whole beans that I have ground to various consistencies. It has yet to fail me with its level of tastiness.

It doesn’t even take that much longer to brew a pot of coffee than my “instant gratification” Bunn machine (plus, it has the added “brew pause” feature that allows you to remove the carafe while the machine is still in brew mode so you can get your fix without waiting). Also, I’ve noticed that it makes a hotter pot of coffee than the Bunn did, and the coffee actually tastes fresher. This might be attributable to the fact that the machine includes a slot for a charcoal filter (and I also use filtered water to begin with). I also think, though, that after a while, the build-up within the Bunn’s reserve tank begins to filter into the coffee and taints its flavor.

Ew.

All that aside, though, one of the things I love most? The knobs and the on/off toggle switch. I know it’s silly, but I love their vintage kitsch feel. They make me feel like Tom Paris designing the control board for the Delta Flyer.

Wow. Of all the Voyager characters, I never thought I’d be comparing myself to Tom Paris. Of course, we all know who I’m most like, what with this worrisome coffee obsession of mine:

Oh, but I do love Captain Janeway. That transformation you see her go through as she takes in that first swallow of coffee? I know that transformation very well.

So, there you go. This is a wonderful coffeemaker. It’s not fancy or high-end, but it’s solid and has impressed me so far as a reliable machine that I hope will last me for many years.

Oh, and since I’m in such a rare non-surly mood at the moment, I’d like to also give a little praise to Renata Mastroti Pottery. See that gorgeous mug waiting for me to fill it with a fresh cup of coffee? I purchased it recently from a local craft fair at which Ms. Mastroti was selling her creations. It is a stunning piece, isn’t it? It’s beautiful and sturdy; the glaze is a soothing blue mottled through with the reddish undertones of the clay; and the band around the center is actually unglazed, carved clay that she somehow embedded around the mug. It’s one of the most delightful purchases I’ve ever made at this craft fair and, as you can see from her Web site, she offers quite a lovely selection of mugs and other stoneware.

Finally, the can of beans right next to the Cuisinart is Cattail, the dark roast blend offered by the Chesapeake Bay Roasting Company. I discovered this hometown brand while wandering in a lost, overwhelmed stupor at Whole Paycheck Foods recently and decided to give it a go. Last night was the inaugural pot, and it was amazing.

See? We’re not always surly and grumbly at the lair. We just need to be properly caffeinated

I’m so glad that Hollywood is finally leaving behind all those sad, disturbing portrayals of Multiple Personality Disorder. You know, like Sally Field’s Sybil or Joanne Woodward’s Eve White…er Eve Black…Jane? Stop this crazy thing?

Anyway, now we’ve got a far funnier, far lighter take on this disease, now known as Dissociative Identity Disorder. You know, because a lot of the classic mental illnesses needed a bit of pizazz to liven them up a bit. It’s not manic depression! It’s bipolar disorder! Now, what can we call schizophrenia? How about “Can You Hear Us Now?” Syndrome?

Am I sounding a bit flippant? I do apologize. I think, however, that anyone who has lived with a severe mental illness in their life, whether their own or that of someone they love, develops a bit of a gallows humor when it comes to discussing such things. It’s been a part of my life since I was 10, and I have a wicked sense of humor about it, as does my family. It’s a coping mechanism, a way to process the fact that sometimes horrible things happen and there’s no real way to “fix” any of it. Just tame it with pills, temper it with therapy, and accept that it is what it is.

Besides, it makes for a great ice breaker when you can tell the story about how you spent part of your 16th birthday in a locked ward, sharing cake with schizophrenics.

Anywho. So this show, United States of Tara, is all about Dissociative Identity Disorder, or DID. The titular Tara, played by Toni Collette, houses several distinct personalities within her: Alice, the hyper-happy housewife who’s like Donna Reed on Speed; Buck, the grizzly beer-bonged Vietnam vet; and T, the 16-year-old nympho-minx who gets away with a hella lot just because she happens to “look mature for her age.”

Here’s the happy “family” all together: Buck, Alice, Tara, and T.

Buck is Tara’s protector, the Alter meant to keep her safe from the memories of whatever trauma she survived in her adolescence that left her fractured into all these different personalities. He also keeps safe those Tara loves; he surfaces when there’s trouble in Tara’s life that she is simply ill-equipped to handle. He’s a lefty with a mean right hook, gruff and offensive, but secretly kind and caring. Alice is the Ladies Home Journal ideal of femininity and motherhood. She surfaces whenever Tara is unable to deal with her children or her marriage. She’ll bake you some muffins, mix you a martini, and wash your mouth out with public restroom liquid soap if you’re not careful. T, probably the most obnoxious of the Alters so far, is a foul-mouthed sex-crazed teen, possibly Tara’s exaggerated way of reclaiming her right to express herself freely, unshackled by the chains of whatever repressed trauma left her this way.

Just for the record, Buck is undeniably my favorite of the Alters.

It’s a delicate dance, this show, dealing with unfunny truths in a wickedly funny style. When I first heard about it, I was über-wary. I knew that it was from Diablo Cody, who was quite the “IT” craze for a while because of her screenplay for Juno. I didn’t really like Juno all that much. I didn’t care about that titular character at all and didn’t really give a shit about the story. Plus, I was so sick and tired of hearing about Stripper Pole Diablo that I wanted to wretch. Needless to say, hearing her name associated with this show was quite the turn-off.

I’m so glad I got over that hurdle. This might possibly be one of the best shows I have ever seen. The writing is exquisite, the casting is perfection, the stories are an amazingly adept balance of wit, humor, irreverence, and sincerity. Plus, there’s a vein of matter-of-factness that snakes all throughout, helping to keep us all anchored in the wake of the tsunami of crazy we’re just getting to know. It’s not new to her family. She’s been like this for years…ever since her husband met her, ever since her children were born.

I think that’s one of the greatest, boldest, most realistic aspects of this show: the way Tara’s family copes with their situation. And that’s just it…they cope. As best as they can. Her husband, played by John Corbett, is the coolest cat in the world. He doesn’t fight the tide, just treads water as he averts the flirtatious affections of Alice or the machismo threats of Buck. He loves his wife, Alters and all. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t get pissed or want to fix what’s wrong. It just means that he’s in it for better or worse. Period. Max is Tara’s greatest champion. Without ever beating this point into our brains with preachy dialogue, we understand that Max is the reason that Tara isn’t wearing Hefty bags and pushing a shopping cart down alleys while fighting back her Alters alone. How many people living on the streets are there because they have no Max? No champion to help them? Or, more accurately, no Max with insurance to cover the cost of their treatment?

Tara’s children, Kate and Marshall, both have a special place in my heart. Played respectively and wonderfully by Brie Larson and Kier Gilchrist, they are testaments to the resiliency of youth. This is the life they’ve always known and these are the parents (and Alters) they’ve got, like it or not. They’re acerbic, angry, resigned, embarrassed, coping with the peaks and nadirs of adolescence while contending with the ridiculousness of what they’ve come to view as mundane. Or at least par for the crazy course. Of course they’re rebellious and belligerent and desperate to have a normal life. But they also know that this is the hand they’ve got and, blow-ups and tantrums aside, they love their mother, fractures and all.

Another wonder of this show is, again, the subtle commentary that strikes deep without offputting preachiness. The show kicks off with us learning that Tara’s Alters are starting to resurface now that she’s decided to go off her medications because of how they leave her feeling non-functional. These anti-psychotic medications that doctors dole out to their patients are unmerciful Catch-22s in pill-form. If you take them, you’re lethargic, you’re unfocused, you’re antsy, you’re hungry, you’re all variety of side effects printed in super-tiny font for three pages of medi-babble. If you don’t take them…you’re catatonic, you’re talking to god, you’re telling ‘Nam war stories while lighting your farts of fire. So what do you choose? Crazy? Or a medicated fugue that passes as “normal” while it ravages your liver in ways worse than a constant IV drip of grain alcohol?

And now we get to the best part of this show: Toni Collette. I adore Toni Collette. I think she’s one of the most marvelous Australian exports EVAR. Definitely way better than Vegemite. In fact, I don’t ever think I’ve seen her give anything less than a stellar performance, no matter what she’s in. She kills as Tara. And all the others. This is the keystone. This premise could have gone completely shazbot if the wrong person had been cast to play Tara. Collette slam-dunks this role with fierceness and compassion. You believe her as all of her Alters. Even more importantly, you believe her as Tara. She is wonderful, and most definitely deserving of the Emmy she won last year for this role.

So there you go. If you haven’t seen United States of Tara yet, the first season is now on DVD. Check it out. I’ve already added it to my wish list, and I can’t wait to see the second season. If it’s anything like the first, it’s going to be more wonder than one person(ality) can stand.

So if you’re a Bank of America customer with an affinity for hanging out at museums and art galleries, you might be carrying around a free pass in your wallet and not even know it.

Bank of America has arranged for free entry for their customers on the first full weekend of every month for the rest of 2009 (with 2010 dates coming). Sound good? Thought so

If you’d like to see if there are any offers in your home state or a state you’ll be visiting for vacation, head on over to BoA’s Museums on Us page. Hope you find something enjoyable!

I come to sing the rarest of songs here in America: praise for customer service.

This time the company in question is TigerDirect. If you’re a techno-geek of any magnitude, you simply must know about TigerDirect. They’re awesome. I’ve been ordering parts from them for more than a decade, and I’ve yet to be disappointed.

However, the time comes in every geek’s life when a return must be made, even to the best of stores. This return, though, was of my own bungling variety and not their fault at all. And so I went to their site and began the return process, fearing either retribution or incompetence (the former in response to me being a dimwit, the latter simply because that’s all I expect from customer service anymore).

The only way they could have made the return process simpler or more stress-free would have involved coming to my house and retrieving the merchandise in person. And that’s why I am here now, singing their praises. They understand that part of providing great service is making it easy to return merchandise.

So there you go: If you ever need anything computer-related for reasonable prices and reasonable shipping times, plus the added net of excellent return policies, then TigerDirect is the online store for you.

I made no secret in my last blog of the fact that I [heart] Netflix. I’ve been a member since November 2004 and I’ve sung their praises often and have been mostly content ever since.

Two things have happened recently that have slightly tarnished my happiness, however. First, they got rid of their “Previously Viewed DVD” sales section. I understand that it wasn’t a frequently used feature, but I loved it.

Next, however, was something that really irritated me. When I first joined Netflix, I learned quickly how to play the “New Release” game. All new releases come out on Tuesday. If there’s something you really want, move it to the top of your queue and time your latest return so that it gets there Monday morning. Netflix will then send the new release that Monday so the new DVD arrives on its release day.

I’m sure I’m not the only member to have figured out this little “secret.” Recently, however, I’ve noticed that the game doesn’t work anymore. For whatever reason, I’ve had several new releases languishing at the top of my queue for more than a month, each one branded with “Very Long Wait.” It reached a level of such frustration that I ended up reverting to my secret identity as “Dissatisfied Letter-Writing Customer.”

Even bigger disappointment was the initial response I received: A bland acknowledgment from customer service, telling me that if I wanted new releases, I should add them to the top of my queue. Really? I hadn’t figured that out before you pointed it out to me! Thanks. For nothing.

But then…as if someone at Netflix could sense the disturbance in the force from my extreme frustration and expanding disappointment, I received an unexpected and wonderful e-mail a few moments ago. Apparently, someone has decided to send me an extra DVD, from my “Very Long Wait” choices. Seems in other parts of the country, this selection isn’t wait-listed, so I’m getting a copy from there. It’ll probably take an extra day to arrive, but you know what? It truly is the thought that counts. I wasn’t expecting this at all; I figured that Netflix felt they had resolved the issue (even though I strongly disagreed).

Truth is, I’ll probably still remain surly over any future extended wait periods, but this has served to temper my surliness slightly. All anyone wants, really, is for someone to acknowledge that their complaint is legitimate. And this is what Netflix has done. So, yeah. Thanks for that