forty year anniversary of Easy Rider...

wow...

caught sight of that news at some blog or another, you can look up your own item regarding this news via this googled link.
Just an aside here, recently viewed a film titled Elegy w/Ben Kingsley and Dennis Hopper, a long way from his role as Billy in Easy Rider.

manohman, was just an impressionable young buck of sixteen when I saw easy rider, the northgate theatre in ol' EPT...

Later that same day...
two wonderful pieces from two different sources, both worthy of thy studied perusal:
The Things That Carried Him by Chris Jones, courtesy Esquire Magazine online;
How David Beats Goliath, by Malcolm Gladwell, via the online New Yorker.

The search for the zozo

Streetfilms.

Toilet paper tube faces

At Make. (#1 and #2, nyuk nyuk)
By Junior Jacquet.

Seeing large numbers

Check out Chris Jordan's work - Running the Numbers.

Paper, scissors, rock

Posted while spending an hour reading my book and twiddling my smart phone. Hmmm.

Kid's rocket MNIDOAILY logo

The rocket and stars in the current MNIDOAILY logo comes from Picture Book of Astronomy, by Jerome S. Meyer and Richard Floethe, 1945. Lookee here!

It wasn't as good as it used to be, and I decided to lose the hat

We went to a restaurant last night that we used to be regulars at, but haven't been to in maybe a year or two, during which time it had ups and downs, closed and reopened. We sat at the bar and the tender got our drinks wrong, then forgot to put in our apps order, then took forever to take our dinner order, which took what seemed like an hour to emerge from the kitchen. The owner, who always used to greet us, both in the restaurant and when we bumped into him now and then on the street, saw us, but didn't come over.

When we left and were a block away, I realized I didn't have my hat. I decided not to go back for it.
Sent via thingy.

Mister Lucky

Isaac Chotiner review of Outliers, in The New Republic

Gladwell's overarching thesis in Outliers is so obviously correct that it hardly merits discussion. "The people we surround ourselves with have a profound effect on who we are." Also, tomorrow is the beginning of the rest of your life. Gladwell writes as if he is the only person in the world in possession of this platitudinous wisdom.

And,

It is Gladwell's discussion of IQ that gives the clearest window into his thinking, and also most acutely exposes the problems with this shallow and irritating book.

Really, thank you.

The bastard brat of a Scotch pedlar

“My birth, is the subject of the most humiliating criticism."

Eine kleine Mayday sonic mayhem

1995, Craig Baldwin, Sonic Outlaws. Via rhizome.

Brooklyn Food Conference

Tomorrow, just down the Ave, at John Jay.

H1N1 and bacon wrapped oysters

First, why is this dish referred to as angels on horseback, and by whom? In real life, I mean.

Second, do you poach the oysters before wrapping them in bacon? Do you broil the darlings or do them in a pan of oil? Do you bread them for extra crunch?

Does properly cooked mean deliciously cooked? I hope so. Clearly it does if you are at Porchetta.
NY Restaurants Fear a Pork Pullback.

Keep your hands off my A on H, honey.

scanwiches - ?

mmmmm...
yummy stuff;
mo' yummy stuff from the wonder that is NPR,
Spring's Cold Comfort...

s'a good thing that it is nearly lunchtime...

They asked me to make the block party poster again this year

Last evening's mock-up makes me worry that they'll think they made a mistake. (Well, to tell the truth, that thought didn't occur to me. It occurred to Lori and she shared it with me.)

dickensURL - love it - the opposite of tinyurl

DickensURL.com
as in:
http://dickensurl.com/4853/The_men_who_learn_endurance_are_they_who_call_the_whole_world_brother

lovely piece on secession by H. Hertzberg...

via the New Yorker magazine, Online Edition,
So Long, Pardner;

via NPR.org, D.Faris seconds that emotion,
Don't Mess with Texas ... Get Rid of It!

Current swine flu is the inevitable result of modern farming methods – HS Daily Wire

http://hsdailywire.com/single.php?id=7867

The statement isn't so shocking. That it's being made in the Homeland Security Daily might be. Dig that word *inevitable*.
Sent via thingy.

28 flights down, thank you

Me and thousands of my best friends evacuated our buildings this lovely Monday morning. Golly, it's good to be away from that boring old Portland, ME, and back here Gotahm!

so much music...

via the Hype Machine,
by way of Akkam's Razor
All the blogs that The Hype Machine checks for fresh music.
so little time...

Lunchtime specials at the Thomaston Cafe, Thomaston, Maine

Including, today:
* Shad roe pan fried and served over a bed of spinach w/ bacon and home fries.
* Finnie haddie cakes w/ salad.

To die for.
Sent via thingy.

coming soon, to a theatre near you

ju ju spock in Starship Bloopers
aka
the revenge of the ex-girlfriend...

leader of the monkeez indeed...

Bar Lola, Portland, Maine

At the top of the big hill, just past the firehouse. Totally fabu. We shared 10 (ten!) dishes. Am totally wiped. (Note to self: lay off the Scotch.)
Sent via thingy.

dos cosas...

and both worth sharing...

via esteemed weblogging comrades Steve B. and Kevin M.,
first up, Mr. Baum points us to this moment in time,
and Professor Murphy provides us a timely history lesson
(for which I am very - ! - grateful, ignorant fool that me be...)

one o' these days me hopes to buy each of dese guys a beer
(or some adequate substitute...)

Brooklyn Based, and bees buzz

E forwarded mail to me last week from Brooklyn Based (which caused some brain fog that only cleared when when I saw E this weekend: She said, Did you get my email? I said, no, but I got an email from someone with your name - oh, that was you? stroke).

Anyway, it was all about beekeeping in here in River City. Lori says, No. There go the mead plans.

worthy of mention hereabouts...

& credit where credit is due,
me thanking the clusterflockers,
and now, without further ado,
Wunderkammer

Tour de Brooklyn

I said what I said, and I meant what I meant...

Nice label!

Bitter sage

Cross posting a pic from our wee private winemaking blog. Have a sage & lemon thing happening on a grain alcohol base, that should finish just in time for the big summer party hereabouts. Naming it Juju Pongo's Love Balm.

Billionaire's Vinegar

Just read the first third of Benjamin Wallace's The Billionaire's Vinegar. A fun whodunnit, especially for me in this time when I seem to be awash in booze (prep for the 3rd annual puttanesca and new wine bash, trying to get Pietro to bottle his 2007 wine so I can make some room in the cellar, experimenting with making a couple more liqueurs...). There was something I read in the book yesterday that, on first blush, I scoffed at, but then quickly changed my mind about.

There was a romantic aspect to it all. Rodenstock and his new friends were "drinking history," as they liked to say, and would commonly wax historical about what Goethe, Schiller, or Napoleon was doing in the year of the vintage they happened to be opening just then.

And I thought, poo, poo, but almost immediately followed that thought with, Hey, we have some old wine. I want to drink some wine that was made before 9/11. Hmmm. (I just went down there and checked - the oldest bottle is a 1966 antique port. Boom boom.)

Shameless promotion: Eating for Beginners

Neighbor and puppet-master-blogger (eh, he's pulling my string again), DL, points to other neighbor Melanie Rehak's Eating for Beginners where, yo yo yo, on my very first visit I see a WCW pome, just like at home.

Golf, wee bairn

Am at bar of Bridge Cafe stop
Circa late 1790's stop
Good salad stop Reading David Owen's article re Askernish in current New Yorker stop
Remembering Jack Pero who taught us golf with whiffle balls circa late mid 1960's stop
Hellofa lot more like the Askernish game of Old Tom in Owen's article than anything I've seen on the vidi lately stop
http://newyorker.com stop
FORE stop
Sent via thingy.

Coke spermicide

Collage-itti

Carroll St. F.

Sent via thingy.

so THAT'S the secret...

not saying that most of yourstruly's paramours have had decidedly simian characteristics (& just what would you expect would attract a big ol'ape fellah like me anyways...)
"hey, my leetle monkee-gal, howzabout a steak dinner?"

p.s. - ain't that the truth...

Diorama Zen

web zen / diorama zen, from September, 2008.

Apropos the little contest we've been running, prizes have been selected, including Vladmaster's The Public Life of Jeremiah Barnes, and Slinkachu's Little People In The City.

Buona Pasqua

The best anisette I ever had...

... I had last night before beddy bye, just a wee dram, and it was made by me from this simple recipe in Dona & Mel Meilach's Homemade Liquors, page 83:

• 2/3 tbsp anise seed
• 1/2 tsp fennel seed
• 1/2 tsp coriander seed
• 1.5 cup vodka

Mortar the seeds, and put into the vodka for 1 week, shaking daily. Then strain and add

• 1/2 cup simple syrup

I strained it a number of times before I was happy (cheesecloth). I also turned it a few times a day for a few days until I was really happy with the integration of the syrup and the infusion, but I probably could have instead just shook it real hard when I added the syrup.

Way less cloying than most. (My syrup was 2 parts sugar to 1 part water.) Spicy! Yummy! Finished product about 30% alcohol.

Ain't misbehaving

Blow me down. Right now, go listen to Irving Mills' Hotsy-Totsy Gang playing Ain't Misbehaving (singing and dancing by Bill Robinson), 1929 Brunswick recording, at Scott Alexander's Red Hot Jazz Archive site. Yow! I'd gotten out of the habit, but 20's dance music is biting me again.

the will to live...

ahhhhhhh...
Sophie Tucker lives
that picture reminds me so of my late, lamented cattledoggy, Cam...

May - NYC Bike Month

Worlds collide - Mamas & Papas dioramas / my life as a professional

I rarely post about work related matters, even in a general manner, but I think this item will pass censor.

I invited folks from companies where I spend a goodly amount of my employer's money to submit dioramas in a head to head competition. Theme: The Mamas & the Papas. Due date: April:10. Judging: April 15. Judge: me. Judging criteria: undisclosed (and, uh, unknown).

These are some pretty competitive people submitting.
See: here. (Will post more as they come.)

Submissions so far from: Autonomy Interwoven, Cervalis, Cisco, Fidelus, Insight, IntApp, LexisNexis, Microsoft, Mindshift, Premier Tehnology Solutions.

Mechanical Music Extravaganza

Quake! Colleague LD is pointing us to the next Mechanical Music Extravaganza, Sunday the 19th in Wayne, NJ. Been a long time since we took this drug. But you know what they say... Once you've had shellac, you'll never go back!

That drip of mu on his nose made me feel real bad for the pork guy

What a couple of days his weekend. Saturday morning was whippin' windy and chilly. We went up to the farmers' market and the guy from Flying Pigs - not Mike Y but the guy who's name I don't know - was shivering and had this little drip of mu at the end of his nose. We felt so bad for him we got him a cup of hot cider. That probably warmed him and then he probably had to piss, on top of shivering. Dang. But he did have more hot sausage than usual, and the Wilklow people had more flat irons than usual, so, sorry, it worked out real nice for us.

Sunday! Sunday was a beaut! Warm and blue and we had all three meals cooked at home. Leftover wheat berries & farro for breakfast a la Bittman; lunch was scallion pancakes and that Sicilian sheep cheese flavored and colored with saffron that we bought at the Cheese Store of Beverly Hills when Lori had meetings there last month; dinner was that Batali pasta dish with tons of black pepper and arugula and cacio de Roma, and we got to eat it in the back yard as the sun set and the air cooled. Lori remembered that we hadn't had that dish in five years. (Gonna have the leftover pasta tonight as a side with some of the flat irons.)

Some rain, some wind

Sent via thingy.

And, of course, there is the charango...

(By the by, I read the posts over at Futility Closet - why assume Will Rogers was joking?)

two wonderful linky bits...

(well, three actually...)

numero uno: Curious Expeditions;

numero dos: Futility Closet;

and, providing referral to both of those wonders, bifurcated rivets.

Tiples, taro patches, and Antebellum

Been thinking of tiples and taro patches lately, half from enjoyment of my Akulele uke and half out of pure g.a.s., and that led me to stumble on Jake Wildwood's Antebellum Music site.

Do, if you're feeling strong, see the custom electric tiple at Specimen. Gadzooks!

25 years today!

What we been readin'

What's it to you? Ah, well, since you asked...

After finishing Mr Barth's The Development I really did dive into Andrew Sullivan's The Conservative Soul, as I threatened myself I would. Great friggin' book. Much of the first half of it is devoted to an explication of fundamentalism better than any I would have thought to have read. Taking it seriously (and opposing it) on its own grounds. And then a description of fundamentalism's grip on the current Grand Old Party and its dark service at the core of the Bush administration. All as a prelude to Sullivan's description of true conservatism. Makes a liberal wish he could help the conservatives wrest back control of the GOP.

Then (or maybe during), Ricky Jay and Rosamond Purcell's Dice: Deception, Fate & Rotten Luck. Then (and now) Umberto Eco's Serendipities : Language and Lunacy, alternating with recipes from A.J. Rathbun's Luscious Liqueurs. (Something about a fantasy of replacing much of the booze in the cabinet with our own concoctions. The better to read Eco by.)

You?

Do you think Cosmos is obscene?

Bless you, Gerald Ross. Bless you, Ukulelia. Ukulele Cosmos.

Sigh. Great sauce. Meat dry. WInchester Cathedral.

I thought I'd make up for last evening's disappointment by making Bittman's dish-o'-the-day, pork clay pot. Let me tell you, the sauce was delish. Double delish. But in a hurry I couldn't get any pork shoulder and went with some chops that were too lean, so even though there was plenty of liquor in the pot, they dried out. I was a little disappointed, but not like last night. After dinner I went rumaging through hooch hutch, found two bottles of the same porto (thank you, RR), both three quarters empty, decided to combine them to make a little shelf room and, oops, filled a wee glassy for my troubles. Well, the chile and ginger from the sauce, the dinner wine, the we dram afterward, the small disappointment of the dry pork, the lingering hurt of last night's dinner... and I found myself singing. Singing Winchester Cathedral. Huh.

The disappointing meal

You know when you make dinner and it's just not that good? I hate that. Happened last night and it's still bothering me.

I was making a simple dish - a bunch of veg diced 1/4 inch (eggplant, zucchini, yellow pepper, celery, red onion), roasted, then sauteed in butter, add some chives, and mix it all with some whole wheat pasta - but I was following someone else's method, roasting the veg at a lower heat & for shorter than I would have on my own, and when it just wasn't turning out, instead of adjusting, I slavishly followed on. So the veg didn't roast enough, then didn't break down enough while sauteing, and I would up with more of a chunky-veg-relish-thing than a chunky sauce.

Why didn't I just slow it down and follow my eyes and nose and taste? Sheesh.

Cycle Chic

Loved the link out in Juju's last post from clusterflock to Cycle Chic (Copenhagen).

Alas, weather here is still a'teasing. Warmer, but the sun just won't break on through. Last night in the 20's. Brrrsky. More like those Copenhagen pics than Brother Berkeley.

sunny hereabouts...

after a rainy night, astonishingly bright sunday morning sunshine flooding through the living room windows...

point ye in the direction of the clusterflockers, many good photos on display there (sequence of photos begins w/the seventh post of the 22rd...) in response to early post on the 21st...

Obama Veg

Meatballs!

Our friend, Mikey S., born and bred and lived his whole life here in our little borough, took me a few months back to see Mark Strausman give a cooking demo at De Gustibus. Mikey has become chummy with Strausman over the years and after the demo a number of us chatted. Well, out of the blue in the mail yesterday was a copy of Strausman's and Pino Luongo's Two Meatballs in the Italian Kitchen, inscribed to me by Strausman, and all of it Mikey's doing. Grazie mille, Mikey.

And it's a great read, this cookbook. All of the homages and disconnects and insults of the two friends that are the conversation between traditional Italian regional cooking and Italian American cooking.

Reading chapter 2, The Great Meatball Debate, I suddenly understood something in one of my own family traditions that I'd seen a thousand times before but never given much thought to. How my Mom serves meatballs.

(Sidenote: I spent most Sundays of the first 8 years of my life at my Grandmothers' apartment in the Bronx, as did all of her children and their young families. My southern Italian grandmother's meatballs and my Italian American mother's meatballs are very different - maybe not as different as northern Italian Luongo's and Jewish American Strausman's meatballs, but way different.)

So, my realization.
Like most Italian Americans my Mom cooks her meatballs (and, in the older family days and still for big dinners, her sausage, veal, pork, braciola, or whatever she chooses) in her tomato sauce. First brown the meat, then into the sauce. (Strausman doesn't brown the meat first. To the barricades!) But then, unlike in the Italian American spaghetti and meatballs tradition, she doesn't server the meat on the pasta. But she also does not quite serve the meat after the pasta as a separate course. The meat gets put into it's own serving bowl, with sauce, and appears on the table after the pasta. Like maybe, literally less than a minute after the pasta, but after the pasta and not before. Then some of us put the meat on our plates along with the pasta, and some of us eat the meat after the pasta, but no one puts the meat on their plate before the pasta.

A small step in the lifelong process of understanding one's family.

And today's only Saturday and there's still time to shop for Sunday dinner!

happi first day o'spring!

won't ye be my neighbor?

in re our own earlier post hereabouts,
Mark M. weighs in on the topic...

& gaawwdamm, it be good to see S. Baum back at it regularly on EtB

on the cusp of spring's arrival...

meself am feeling a bit of melancholy these days, and there be any number of reasons for that, tho we won't be getting into much detail hereabouts, altho might liven things up elsewhere with those stories...

we all aware of the headlines regarding those same producers of headlines, the demise of daily newspapers across the country, the effect that the very technologies we utilizing to share these thoughts with ye and for ye to indulge in lengthy perambulations throughout the ether be, well, in some fundamental way, the things that contributed mightily to the scenario, & yourstruly sad to read about it, to realize it. Amigo-at-a-distance Gordon Coale relates a bit of his own history with Pacific Northwest newspapers & within that post a link to Clay Shirkey's piece on topic. Esteemed amigo Lee S. delivers something of an epitaph for the local fishwrap, where we once labored together on the killing floor of the classified ad sales department and where he labors yet, dealing with the stories of dead folk daily. Speaking about that local fishwrap, longtime columnist there Jon C. makes some mention of related events in yesterday's column.

so, is kind of unsettling, no?

Not so fast...

Wella, wella, wella, this one's for all of you who are somehow outside of the NY Post's footprint. That's a condition I'd normally say is a good thing, but every now and then there's a cover that makes you smile.

Tobacco, where have you been

It's been a bad past year, breathing wise, requiring drugs and instilling something between caution and fear. But the last month has been suddenly better, and this last weekend I was able to ride bikey w/out xopenex, and this evening after making wild rice w/ baby bok choy and broccolini (t) (sku 3277) (hurts me just to type that word, but it tastes good) and cutting the backbone out of a chicken (I use a cleaver, not a sissor, and I leave the keel bone in) and rubbing the s(k)in side with a voodoo of cumin, corriander, allspice, ginger, salt, cayenne, black pepper and a sassy sweet paprika-like powder and doing it up at 425 for about 40 minutes, and drinking most of a bottle of Almira Los Dos grenache syrah blend... Where was I? Oh, after that, and Lorishki and me chatting about the day's challenges and Lorishki going upstairs to bathe, I thought... C O H I B A. And yes, with my newly recovered lungs and the last of the Los Dos I grabbed one of the little Cohibas I still have stashed away from the last Paris trip, and in the dark of the back yard, hoodie up, I did smoke that little beauty. And it was good.

Are you lonesome tonight, Jumbo Jimbo?

Salute! Are You Lonesome Tonight, at Jumbo Jimbo.
I find myself looking for lots of songs from the 20's and 30's lately. The one above (1926) is by Roy Turk and Lou Handman.

The Development (more berets) - John Barth

Back when I started studying litrichur, scratching slates with coal, etc., John Barth (and, unofficially) was an already established writer. I remember reading Floating Opera and Chimera in classes - don't remember if I first read Sotweed Factor for fun or profit. (Just thinking about it makes me want to do it again. Or Letters - maybe I'll take a crack at Letters.) But anyway, he was there then, and he's still here now, and I've just read last year's The Development. Thanks, Mr. Barth.

The ending of the second story in the book made me cry. On the subway. Generally, brothers and sisters, don't do this. Your fellow passengers assume you are, you know, crazy or unstable or just generally about to impinge on their personal space in a way that's really going to harsh their mellow - though probably make for good dinner / drinks conversation. But Mr. Barth is 79 now, and was just a few years younger I guess when writing The Development, and he was writing about the things he and his coevals are worrying about and going through - the diminishing of life, health, the shortening of days, dementia, death. It's a long life, but we do get to the end of it.

Sidenote: The Scriptorium asks, and answers:

For whom is the fiction of John Barth fun? Perhaps for lovers of complex metafictions. For people constrained by nineteenth century notions of realist literature it is a place of fear and confusion.

World Naked Bike Ride - giddyap!

una cosa mas...

etta james

i would rather go blind


courtesy the fine mind behind gmtPlus9 (-15)

p.s.

methinks me died an' gon t'hebbin...

the unspeakably named mc-thing...

and it goes so nicely with a bold chianti...

an endeavor recommended for..

the more hirsute amongst ye...

Beard Team USA

1 million names

What's the biggest crowd you've ever been in? I'm guessing for me it would be the Caribbean Day parade in BKLYN - I haven't been for a few years, but they say these days it's up to about 3 million people, so I'm guessing I must have been around the 1 mil. mark or better. Bigger than Vietnam or Iraq era marches I've been in.

Anyway, this just in:

Terrorist Watchlist reaches 1 million entries (representing about 400,000 individuals)

U.S. Terrorist Watchlist reaches 1 million entries; since many individuals on the list have several entries owing to the different ways in which their names may be rendered, the number of individuals on the list is about 400,000. full story

Lunchtime Robert Melee

City Hall Park. Rodin + crayons.

Via thingy.

Oscar Aleman - Besame mucho

Da'Levy writes to say that he's listening to

(Will I never tire of this new imeem widget toy?) O.A. wiki; vidi.

Everybody hurts

We were lucky enough to see the arts benefit / REM tribute at Carnegie Hall last evening - twenty bands playing REM tunes, and then REM came on for a little night-capper with Patti Smith. Describing it all would be linky-dink-a-doo all afternoon - maybe I can find a post by someone else somewhere else - (Yes - I can - the poster site here for now) but this post is here to say that the emotional high-point (low-point? stress-point?) was Vic Chesnut and Elf Power performing Everybody Hurts. Woof!

VC:
North Star Deserter

Hey, something about that Elf Power site - the painting by Terry Rowlett - Through The Garden. I've seen it. It used to hang in the place that was Zipper. On Smith Street. No? makes me wonder if the Zipper people are from Athens, too.

Germs, Viruses and Secrets

I'm still a big fan of Steven Aftergood's Secrecy News.
From today's email:

"No one in the Federal Government even knows for sure how many of these labs there are in the United States, much less what research they are doing or whether they are safe and secure," said Rep. Bart Stupak at a 2007 congressional hearing, the record of which has recently been published. "What we do know is that the Federal Government has been funding the proliferation of these labs on an unprecedented scale."

See "Germs, Viruses, and Secrets: The Silent Proliferation of Bio-Laboratories in the United States" (pdf), House Committee on Energy and Commerce, October 4, 2007 (published December 2008).

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Imeem, umeem, we al scweem fo imeem

Nu? Macinwi's an imeem fan. Hard not to be!

I will never wash my kazoo again

I posted about January's Pete Stampfel / Ether Frolic Mob gig at Jalopy, and that was fun, but let me tell you, last evening's doings wuz da bes yet. Clicky away on that little kazoo pic - they had a box of them last night, signed by everyone on stage and to be used (vigorously, if not tastefully) by the audience. And they were. But, horrors, the sweat and spit and lipping and squeezing wore away the Sharpee! Still, the "Peter" is professor Stampfel hisself, and the "John" is John Cohn. "Jeannie" Scofield, who is the perfect vocal foil to PS. Jalopy is the place to be.

Sausage!

I don't think my gustatory friend will mind me sharing this:

"I thought you all might appreciate this photo taken at the annual sausage making event that I was fortunate to be able to attend a couple of weeks ago. Thirty of us gathered in a house in K..., New York and we turned over 300 pounds of pork shoulder into sausages over the course of the day. We were supervised by three Italian brothers who have been doing this forever. The shot you see is us seasoning the ground pork before putting it into the casings. Throughout the day, we were fed – fried cheese, various kinds of pizza, grilled pork – and we ended with a feast of pasta, pork stew and home made wine. Truly heavenly ( and I went home with 10 lbs of sausage!!)"

Sent via thingy.

'Nuff said

I just couldn't let this go

Aside from really loving the song, the dance number in the second half is to die for. Those clear raincoats! And the way Modugno stretches out his right arm the first time he sings Ciao, Ciao, Bambina. (c)(t).
Of course, as a kid in the Bronx, it would have been Jerry Vale, not Modugno that I would have heard.

Thank you, neighbors

We snuck into JFK last evening just before the storm, and I had a sorry time of it dragging myself out of our time-lagged bed this morning knowing that I needed to go downstairs and face the foot of drifted snow at our door, shovel in hand... When, low and behold, booted and hooded I swung our house-door open and saw that someone had shoveled our walk for us. Not just the sidewalk, but a path right up to our door.

Thank you, neighbors.

hiya to dante, stumpy, melliemel and alla da rest o'youse...

end of february and the last time we posted anything hereabouts, well, me don't wanna think about it, been a long time, datz fo sure...
so, first, via the marvel that remains wood s lot, George Lakoff on the Obama Code; wanted to share this powerful and compelling read provided via the Times Online, evidently one of the stories from a recent edition of Granta.

had the pleasure of hosting two amigos from Tejas who were visiting here earlier this month, the esteemed CJ and his partner in crime, G Mac (mine own appellations for the gents), in Berkeley for a specialty book fair held on the Cal Campus, the Codex exhibition, where many, many lovely printed works were available to view and purchase. The time we shared together passed much too quickly, but t'was good to renew our comradeship. Mention here another pal of mine who spent much of the last month hard at work on his FAWM project, and ye can hear some of the music he produced here; Yah Babee, way to go, Phillippe!

so, not gonna overdo it, will endeavor to make more regular contributions here, tho' before we close this one, just quick mention of a handful of chunky, chewy bits of linky goodness: via LA Times online, a recent article on one of my favorite places on the planet, Mono Lake; yourstruly has been long acquainted with the weblogs am about to mention here, always worth visiting, and in particular lovely to see that the fine mind behind the retired Riley Dog still providing us much stuff to enjoy, and we always happy to see what is new at Bifurcated Rivets and Ethel the Blog. Una cosa mas, we want to pass along some encouragement to co-worker Becca B. who's started something earlier this month...

ciao ciao, bambini...

The promised land

JP, Mellie Mel -
Lori and I made it today to the promised land, the Museum of Jurassic Technology. The reason for Cabinet. See Culver City and die. Hugs and kisses.
Sent via thingy.

2006 interview of Andrew Sullivan

Any of the four of you notice that for the last few months the rss feed up there on the right belongs to Andrew Sullivan, the conservative soul? Just spent part of the morning watching an October 2006 C-SPAN Q&A interview of of him. You should, too. What an honorable man. Kind of life affirming.

The Beatles Complete on Ukulele

Bless you.

A Mission Statement by Roger and Dave

Roger and Dave will....

A) Record & perform on ukulele all 185 original compositions by The Beatles with 185 guest artists.

B) Write essays to coincide with each release.

C) Make available for download one new recording and essay every Tuesday for 185 weeks, beginning January 20, 2009 (Inauguration Day) and climaxing July 24, 2012 (The eve of the London Olympics).

It's OK, Ma, I'm only whiiining

Dear Diary,

Am through the first 23 chapters of P&P. Upside down as things are, I cannot help but be darkly drawn to Darcy. And mistrust Whikham's goodness. I am Elizabeth, though, if anyone other than Mr. Bennett.

Last night saw Antony & the Johnsons @ Town Hall. Musically, hard to imagine a better concert. What a fabu orkestra the Johnsons are. Had seen Antony perform maybe three times before, in Hal Wilmer productions and co-hosting a Winter Soldier period fund raiser with Mr. Reed & Ms. Anderson. But with the Johnsons - wow! Attracts a distinct audience, too. (Why Antony but not Johnstons?)

But before the concert was an early dinner @ Koi, starting with some roasted shishito peppers. Did I mention I've been ill the last week and that I slept three hours the night before and that my back had been spasming so that half the sleep I did get was sitting in a chair? Where was I? Shishito... Two of the first three were HOT! Wewy wewy hot... Get ready to rumble. Hey, let me tell you something about the stalls in the men's room at Town Hall - these are the same stalls, I'm sure, that were installed in the 20's. Six foot tall marble walls, wooden doors. Kind of echoey, but still, really a comfort to a man in need.

And after we got home and I lay me down to sleep, the back started seizing up again and there was no Imodium in the house and I ate enough ibuprofen to poison myself, I say, then did I cry out my tale of woe to Lorita. And Lorita said, Hey, we have some Ben-Gay! And, oh, baby, did we slather it on, and then I found the softest surface in the house (the living room couch) curled up, and passed out.

Now, part of the illness of the last week was a wicked cold (thank you, niece Jillybeans), and really I haven't been able to smell much since getting it. During the week I could not smell my beloved Yu-Be, and last night I couldn't smell the Ben-Gay.

So, slathered and sense-numbed and rumbling and sleep deprived as I was, I passed out and was dead to the world until the sun came up. Hallelujah! And after sitting meditatively and praising a bit, a word floated up unbidden in my consciousness: naptha. Naptha. I smell... naptha. Then I thought, What is naptha? and, How do I know what it smells like? I cupped my hand over my mouth, you know, to see if the smell was coming from inside me. No - thank god. Then I thought, Maybe it's oozing out of me, like sometimes when you're really drunk your body gives off that sort of sour smell, you know? (Don't lie - you do too know.) Mmmm, no I don't think so. Then I got a little freaked out and worried it might be coming up from the cellar, but no. Then I stopped thinking about it and threw some clothing on and went out and moved the car. (If you're not from NY you might wonder why.)

When I got back in I headed upstairs and started to undress and, WHUMP, NATPTHA! I happened to be standing in front of my closet and realized, Oh, moth balls! (which are no longer made from naptha). But of course there are no moth balls in the closet. OK, enough, a little later I realized that it was the Ben-Gay and my sense of smell is back. When I showered the bottom of the stall looked like when a thunderstorm washes down the street after the gasoline tanker crashed. I mean, man, Lori must really put on a lot of the old BG when I was whining away last night. And I'm glad she did.

Bye.

Me luv gurly book

I downloaded a copy of Pride and Prejudice, am about a 5th of the way through, and am loving it. As I've said about other stuff before, I already didn't read Austin or the Bronte's when I was young, so what was going to make me do so now that I was too proud to admit I hadn't and too prejudiced against girly books to dive in? (Love me for my candor. Please.) The answer is the absurd Mr. Mybug in Stella Gibbons' Cold Comfort Farm.

Amaro me, Dr. Memory (crosspost)

(The partners in our little 11th Street winemaking group have a private blog - and I'm cross posting this little ditty from there.)

Started on the Amaro recipe at about.com. The hard to get herbs all came from Aphrodisia, and the grain alcohol and vermouth from Slope Cellars. Since the recipe is silent on amounts for the roots, I used 5 grams of each, and where I had dried herbs rather than fresh, I used a teaspoon. And where I had leaves instead of root, I winged it. So:

• Lemon balm 1 tsp
• 5 leaves fresh sage
  
• 10 leaves fresh rosemary
• Centaury plant 1 tsp. dried
• 15 juniper berries
• 5 cloves, check
• 1/2 inch cinnamon stick
  
• Orris root 5g.
• Calmus root 5g.
• Gentian root 5 g.
• Blessed thistle I have is dried leaves, not root, and I am using 2 tsp
• Milk thistle 1 tsp dried
  

Step 1 is complete. Sugar is dissolving in vermouth, herbs are steeping in grain alcohol. More work a couple of times in the next week or two, then 8 months of waiting.

CYHSY / Mr. Fantasy

Just home from seeing Clap Your Hands Say Yeah at BAM. Good fun, but maybe my mind was wandering a bit. One of the last songs before the encore had the same chord changes and rhythm as the chorus to Only Living Boy in New York, and I was singing that on top of the CYHSY number. Then, during the first encore number, it popped into my head that Dear Mr. Fantasy would be a great ukulele tune. At least, maybe.

Meanwhile - CYHSY's Satan Said Dance is mos'def not a ukulele tune.

SONY releases new...

What, you've seen this already? It's OK, watch it again.
Thank you, Bawk.

6 Points Hop Obama busted!

Or, as NY Mag says it, Feds Harsh Sixpoint’s ‘Hop Obama’ Beer Buzz. Does 6 Point sell outside of NY Metro? Damned good. Boo feds. Look out, Oblinga watches, ATF is on the beat.

Oblinga

Saw these in a shop on Fulton Street this afternoon - FootMart. Hope the phonepic is clear enough. There was a whole shelf of Obama watches - I particularly likes the Bam-Bam + Michelle on a white background.
Sent via thingy.

Oh! And speaking of Fulton Street, the collection of Fulton Street business trade cards at the Brooklyn Library is fabu!

There have always been Starkadders at Cold Comfort Farm

Was down at Scaredy Kat this weekend and picked up a copy of Stella Gibbons' Cold Comfort Farm (1932). I haven't read most of the authors it's parodying, but it's still great fun. Mr. Scaredy Kat's a big fan. Special added bonus: The 1995 John Schlesinger film version is on line at youtube in 10 minute installments, so you can creep along in the film as you do the book. It's working out so far through the first third. (Look for the Penguin paperback edition with the cover by R. Chast!)

Be there, or be square. NY Writers Coalition party @ Galapagos. Tomorrow, Feb. 9, at 7 PM.

FW: Farm Catskills Fundraiser at applewood THIS SUNDAY!

What if they built a natural gas well or service station here? applewood needs you to Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is at our Farm Catskills Fundraiser THIS SUNDAY NIGHT this is an urgent plea to HELP SAVE THE ENDANGERED ORGANIC FARMLAND (PICTURED ABOVE) FROM NON-FARM DEVELOPMENT Only with your help can we ensure that this land currently farmed by Lucky Dog Organics will be preserved for agricultural use forever Sunday, February 8th 6:00 p.m. $20 per person includes admission and hors d'oeuvres (full cash bar available) EVERY PENNY GOES TO FARM CATSKILLS Please join us for a fun-filled evening of wine and cocktails, hors d'oeuvres, and a silent auction to save valuable, endangered, and irreplaceable farmland in upstate New York. We need immediate donations of cash or checks to reach our goal of raising $30,000 to save this land. all donations are tax deductible Please make your checks payable to: Farm Catskills c/o applewood 501 11th Street Brooklyn NY 11215 or just come to the event and bid on such wonderful items as: paintings by local artists Beth Reisman, Shelton Walsmith, Becky Serrell, Matthew Myers, Judith Lamb, Michael Ingui, and Sandra Garlick one week of summer camp at Creative Theatrics Summer Theater Workshop photography by local photographers Dana Matthews, Sara Wight, John Cyr, and John Rajes a one-year membership to the Pellegrini Family Wine Club gift certificates to Juice Box, La Esquina, and Mas three subscriptions to the Edible Magazines a behind-the-scenes tour of the American Museum of Natural History's Dinosaur Collections jewelry by Beverly Eichenlaub, Eve Martinez, and Meredith Weaver antique collectibles from Michael and Betty Howard tattoo by Todd Woodzart hand-thrown pottery by Tim Farrell VIP seating for Thursday night "movie under the stars" in DUMBO fine wines, armangnac, and cognac yoga classes with Patty Swander swedish massage and spa pass from Body by Brooklyn private tour of the upcoming brooklyn bridge park site "closet cleanse" package by Jessica Cadmus children's book libraries from Melanie Cecka in-home tutoring with David Levi collection of works by Kris Waldherr ___________ please read below for complete information on the easement and why this fundraiser is so important: Our good friends, Richard Giles and Holley White of Lucky Dog Organics in Hamden, New York, have provided applewood with some of the most purely beautiful and amazingly delicious organic produce we've ever seen! Their dedication to their land, their crops, and their family of farmers epitomizes all that sustainable farming can be. One of the pieces of farmland that Lucky Dog Farm leases for growing vegetables has been at high risk for non-farm development. Quality farmland is already scarce enough in the western Catskill Mountains where Lucky Dog Farm grows vegetables that end up in Park Slope. But the level flood plain along the West Branch of the Delaware River, a source of Brooklyn water, is at constant further risk from unwise commercial development. "If you're a contractor thinking of building a service station or a sewer plant, your eyes don't wander up the mountainside. The impulse is toward cheap, level, and easy...and once the farmland is gone, it's gone for good." - Richard Giles Even as we in this community enlighten ourselves about the values of eating local food, more and more "local" farmland goes under concrete. This is a nationwide problem, but when the farmland in question is so near to so many eaters, the result is tragic. Here's the good news: The State of New York purchases the development rights on some at-risk farmland and is currently considering an easement on some of the valley farmland leased by Lucky Dog Farm. A grant from the state would pay the landowner for the easement, thus satisfying his financial interests, and the easement the state purchased would prevent development of the land. These easements are a highly effective way of keeping farmland from being covered in concrete. And this is where we as eaters need to step forward: The NY state easement grants require that the landowner or some other entity put up 25% of the value of the easement. Lucky Dog has a verbal commitment from the Open Space Institute to contribute 12.5%, and so we still need to raise the other 12.5%--about $30,000. There will never be a better chance to put you money where your mouth is. If you can't join us for the party, but would still like to help, we are accepting donations for our silent auction at applewood. The party will be on Sunday, February 8th, and we are excited about the donations we've already received: paintings, photography, walking tours, spa and restaurant gift certificates, to name a few. We are also, and will continue to be, collecting direct financial donations for the easement. Farm Catskills, a regional farm advocacy non-profit group is leading the effort to raise funds and you can write your checks to them and send them to us at: applewood 501 11th Street Brooklyn NY 11215 to the farm: Lucky Dog Organics P.O. Box 51 Hamden, NY 13782 or to: Farm Catskills 87 Sal Bren Rd., Suite 1 Delhi, NY 13753-1440 `

Be nice

A week or two ago I had dinner with some colleagues, one of who used to have the same job as me in a similar firm as mine, then went off to do similar work in the law department of a large corporation, then rose through the ranks until he became the director of all he sees. For some context regarding size, my company has about 1,500 people in it. His company just acquired another company (a habit of his company) and the number of jobs that will be cut from the combined company - this is the slough from the synergy, ahem - is 30,000. Not a typo.

So there came in the course of dinner a conversation I've wanted to have for years. Someone, maybe me, asked our friend how it was he came to be whatever he is. His answer surprised me.

Corny though it sounds, he said, what's been most useful to me is Dale Carnegie's How to Win Friends and Influence People. I try to listen to people.

Be nice.

So, how could I resist? I got a copy of the book & jumped in. Maybe I'm the last person on Earth to do this? It's both boring and fascinating. It's everything you know. Don't act nice. Do be nice. Don't flatter. Be thankful. Don't blather on about what you want. Understand what the person next to you wants, and see if you can make both your wants go hand in hand.

I'm working on it.

When does the back-yard mint die?

It's dead now, but it wasn't yet a month ago when we made lamb burgers and we used it with the fresh oregano and parsley from market. Then, in the last few weeks, we had enough snow and ice to keep it covered for a while. (Though I remember, too, when we had the lambypie last month I picked the mint from the snow.). Now it's gone 'cept a tangle of brown vines and some frostbitten green-purple leaves and some very fresh sprigs just popping up. I think it happened the same way and the same time last year. The mint is dead! Long live the mint!
Sent via thingy.

I know bupkis about this Michael Phelps / smoke thing, but...

... did it really not occur to anyone watching & listening to him out of the water & before his fall, that he's not a nice guy, that he's got large self image issues (not just large ears), and that you wouldn't want to be like him, smoke or no smoke? No? Just me? OK.

My latest time-killer: a sneak peak

A work in progress to be sure, but I'm hoping this one might actually have legs.

I'm sharing it here so that you (half dozen) can check it out on various platforms/devices and tell me if things work -- and what you think about the content, of course! Will try to post daily, at least, while I'm out of work -- I'm aiming to share it with a few more trusted individuals next week before broadening my audience.

My Urban Gardner - a spahound!

Well blow me down, Julie Cummings, Urban Gardner, designer of our fabu grape arbor, patio and back yard plantings, indulging guest at our yearly new-wine blast... is a spa hound and is in this week's TONY!

I'll stop complaining and think of it as a jump on images for next year's Xmas card

One more time.

Uping the ante on nerd chic

Lorita forwards this important announcement, from the Daily Candy flavorpill daily dose. And we're glad she did. Check out the video.

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Upping the ante on nerd chic

Spectacled singer Dent May is an Adonis of the Cosby-sweater set. Hell-bent on resuscitating the oldies, the ukelele-toting troubadour evokes everything from classy '50s crooners to the quirked-up pop of Jens Lekman and Elvis Costello.

He proves dorks really can be cool. May hips up the sweeping strings and interlocking vocal harmonies of doo-wop and '60s surf pop, ushering the disparate styles of the Lettermen, the Beach Boys, and Phil Spector into the post-everything age.

The songs are seriously silly. When he isn't kicking up a square dance ("You Can't Force a Dance Party") or lamenting lost love ("Girls on the Square"), May embraces the innate kitsch of his instrument, tearing exuberantly through cheeky tunes like "26 Miles" and "Alcoholic."

Dent is also a clever clown. May's ironic take on suburban angst offers a lighthearted indictment of middle-class America, as songs like "At the Academic Conference" and "College Town Boy" unabashedly poke fun at the "pains" of privilege.

Download our favorite single, watch a tux-loving video, check out May's MySpace, and order his album.

- Andrew Phillips

He was very excited about carrots.

Hey, the old guy who demonstrated and sold the vegetable peelers in Union Square died on Sunday. I'll miss seeing him -- he always drew a big crowd, especially on Greenmarket days.

Cellar Archeology 002, In which the stern god of John Winthrop and Roger Williams drops a dime on our hero

We were out late last night, had great fun but maybe too much bourbon and too late a dinner and I was feeling low about myself this morning, bloated and boggy, and I decided to go down to the cellar and get on the bike (Lori's, which winters on the trainer) and try to exhaust or exhilarate myself.

So down I headed and midway, damned if one of the stairs didn't let loose and I crashed through, cartoon style, one leg straight down until my crotch found the next stair. As it was inconvenient to fall further, I pitched into the stone wall at my side.

I wasn't really hurt (as measured by bones sticking through flesh and clothing), but lost some skin here and there and was deeply banged. As the shock wore off and I was still astraddle the broken stairs, friends, a wave of sadness washed over me that I can barely describe, and won't really try. Sad deep sadness. Big nauseating waves of mama.

Have I mentioned in any recent posts that I'm reading Sarah Vowell's The Wordy Shipmates? I don't think I have. Great book. (Heffernan at the Times hates it. Or hates SV. Or both. She has her knickers in a twist about it. She doesn't think I should be learning from a comedic smart-ass, she thinks I should be learning from a serious academic. But, Heff, I already didn't do that.) Opened my eyes to the Massachusetts Bay plantation founders. I'm about three quarters of the way through. At a few junctures in the book there are events which those men and women 350 years ago clearly took to be their lord giving them big hints about what to do or not do: they are aghast when their brethren don't take the hints.

Sooo, anyways, there I am, weepy on the broken stairs, John Winthrop and Roger Williams looking on from Calvinist heaven. OK. I hear you, dudes. I'm pretty sure the message isn't just to fix the stairs. I'm working on it.

(By the by, this isn't the first time I've gone through that staircase.)

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Strangers are typically pretty leery about going down our cellar stairs - or are after they take one or two of the stairs and feel a little rocking action.In the pic on the left, the stairs that have no carpeting on them are ones that were badly damaged and I reattached, or simply gave way under me. (You can't see the bald stair second from the top - that was a lulu.) The avocado shag holds an astounding quantity of dust and sand and who knows what, so I've learned to strip it off out of doors. The repair in the pic isn't today's stair - it's one of the older ones. For today's I used some two by three, and three inch screws.