How does a percolator work? I mean the old kind, with the basket and the stem. How does it work? It has energy, heat at the bottom and that somehow sends the water up to the top, where it falls into the basket of grounds.

My guess is that it relates to the little bubbles that form at the bottom of a boiling kettle. For some reason or another, those little bubbles (of gaseous water) decide to go up the stem, rather than just floating to the top. I guess it runs up the middle and then falls down onto the grounds.

And it goes around and around like that until it's coffee.

I don't know how it works really, and I don't need to know how it works, I suppose. What I want to know is: Why couldn't this work for basting things in the oven?

Couldn't you set up a percolator thing, a stem at the bottom of the pan, that would pull up the basting juices from the bottom of the pan and spray them over the top of your turkey? My guess is _not_, because the heat is even all over the system, rather than just at the bottom.

I think with a coffee percolator, the gaseous water condenses at the top and then falls down. It's over 212 at the bottom and under 212 at the top. And that drives the system.

So maybe it's a pipe dream of mine to create the self-baster. At least one that's like a percolator. But. BUT! There must be some kind of heat exchange system you could use to drive a little pump or something? Right?

I wonder.

We had our last performance A Number Saturday.



It was a very good performance. We had a capacity crowd, including my parents who drove down from Hackensack. I was concerned that the last show would be a little maudlin, or perhaps just robotic, because I would be too self-conscious. The odd thing about acting is that it can feel dead inside -- at least, not connected -- but be perfectly fine for the audience. But I truly enjoyed it, and I think it was a good show.

Gary's last cue to me is "You like your life?" I choked up on the response, briefly falling from the character into myself. I barely got the line out, actually, "I do, yes. Sorry." Because I do like my life and I am very grateful to be where I am today: healthy, performing, employed, married, all of these good things.

I'm not sad, yet, that the show is over. I'm not happy either. I can't tell if I'm just covering things up or I'm naturally avoiding forcing a feeling. Sometimes I don't react immediately. Sometimes I never figure out how I felt. I'm proud of this show, the result and the process.

I got a lot of good feedback from friends. I frightened some strangers. And we had good reviews:

Capital Times

Wisconsin State Journal

Christian @ Dane 101