Can dreams predict the future?

Juju dropped a note from the Berkeley hills to ask if that Gorilla Coffee uprising wasn't in our neighborhood here in the Brooklyn slopes, and I had to smile because (a) Yes, (b) we'd bought the silverbacked correspondent Gorilla gear and coffee before and put it in one of the never-mailed packets to him (later broken into for our own drinking, but I see there is still a double X Ike Turner T-shirt there...), and (c) I was just then brewing a little stovetop pot of coffee, not Gorilla because we'd used the last of it a day or two before and were switching to some very nice Italian gift coffee for a while.  This was all on that fine last Saturday, and I was sitting out back, but near the kitchen door and window and I could hear the coffee finishing, but was surprised not to smell it doing so.  Guess what?  When I went to pour, there was no there there.  Someone (!) forgot to add the coffee to the coffee pot.  Pretty sure I'd never done that before, and I had to wait a bit for the heat and vacuum of the Bialetti ease off before I could start again.  So, back out back where (d) I was finishing this decade's reading of Little Big, where someone (!) who had oft described this book as one of his favorites was in the end-throes of being shocked that he remembered the first 50 pages really well, and the last 25 pretty well, and was deep under water in vaguery about most of the intervening 500 or so.  How does that happen?  Why does it keep happening to moi? 

Anyway, I didn't weep over Smokey's death this decade.  I think maybe I've come to wear my own Smokeyness more comfortably.  We'll take another look in 2020 (and see, nyuk nyuk).  (Nyuk nyuk.  Who's there?)

And here's why I'm posting: to say that one of the films Lori (Lori Cheatle!) produced this past year, Amy Hardie's fab The Edge of Dreaming got itself written about glowingly at the Huffington Post, by Karin Badt: Can Dreams Predict the Future? Amy Hardie's New Documentary.

Ultimately, we hope customers will feel an enhanced sense of community and a deeper connection to our coffee heritage

Oi. Starbucks. Thanks, jp. At the Consumerist, via huffpost.

Chocolate Emitt Rhodes

There's a Christopher Norman storefront tucked into 60 New Street, which has become (the street, not the shop) something of a war zone of construction and car-traps leading to the back of the NYSE and is one of the few streets in Manhattan where the little google man refuses to show you a street-level view. They have a beautiful little Faema - I think an e61 - on which they make one of the best and most reliable espresso I know. And it's a buck. Plus $0.0825. And the guy who usually mans the shop is great, knows lots of regulars, and is always playing music worth listening to.

Last week I was in there and I'm listening and listening and I'm thinking, I know who that is, who is that? It's Emitt Rhodes! Poppy as all get-out and as great as it sounded back in, uh, 1970.

And then it came rushing out in one humongous spunk

Have always wanted to take our NY / Conn suburban nephews and niece to things out of their ordinary - looks like we may get to take two of them (and their mom. Sissy K) to the Hal Willner Keep A Light in the Window: An Homage to Joel Dorn thang at Lincoln Center.


Tried to post this next from the thingy on the 31st, but it went awry:

Well, I really don't know what this means...
but I gather that Garrett is a local musician here in Greenport (across the water from Shelter Island, where we've been these last few days). The sign is in Aldo's window. Do you know Aldo Maiorana? We met him only once, a year or two ago in his last shop here, where I had one of the two or three best espresso's I've ever had. We bought some beans there, and Aldo, who roasts them, got all excited and opened the bag and wanted us to look at the beans we were buying, really look at them, and smell them. Anyway, since then a Starbucks has moved into town, Aldo has consolidated into one shop, almost across from the borg, and the pictured sign is in his window. Matt, the barkeep at the Frisky Oyster, is the one who told us that the Garrett is etc. All other meanings are elusive. Matt also told us that the Fifth Season moved from Greenport to Port Jeff because the town wouldn't let them add a second floor for more seating so the could make their nut and profit. This in a town that could use more successful local businesses. Instead there's now a Starbucks. A wella wella wella. Back to 'ittle 'ikey and the water. Ciao.

Two days before that, I meant to say:
Weather threatening all day, swinging between quiet and monster storm, energy up and down and all over the place. Headed late morning over to the infamous flea in Fort Green (and the NYT article here) - started pouring just as we got there, but let up enough for us to get totally mesmerized at the kimchi lady's booth (and buy some for later) and at the folks who were making sandwiches of local fresh ricotta, basil, salami and - your choice - peach or raspberry jam (and, yeah, we bought a couple of those, too).

warm here on the left coast today...

and we speaking specifically 'bout the Northern Califa part of the left coast where we're expecting it to get much warmer tomorrow...

a nod of our increasingly salt&peppery shaggy head in the direction of Esteban's mention of E. Morris, as we came across this very interesting interview via those clusterflockers we made mention of last time around. Be sure to visit the source site, as Seed Magazine is mighty good brain food.

some linky goodness out of the pages of the local fishwrap, one noting the passing of local literary lion, Oakley Hall along with very affectionate tribute courtesy Leah Garchik; here's something about a beverage most of us consider an important part of our day, mornings in particular, Roast With The Most.

Alright, basta basta, datz enuf, we can feel your attention spans shortening muy pronto quickly. One last item, via Political Irony, something about that despicable waste of space in the white house, and jessferdahalibut, inspired by my bottomless pit of dislike for this shitehead, some fun to have with his visage provided here...