I did listen to and buy a lot of music this year. How memorable was any of it though? Even my counting was off I was so uninspired. I liked the Mattiel and Andrew Bird, my son likes Tinariwen. The Divine Comedy was a huge disappointment. There was a lot of downloading legally or buying new vinyl and a few cds.
Listed up the used vinyl purchases this year for the first time, and it's about the same amount as new. Need to be a bit more discriminating as to what I buy used next year as I do not want the collection to become too unwieldy. Still going to purchase new every week to try and take care of the artists.
01) Dean Ford - Feel My Heartbeat
02) Mighty Sam McClain - Give it up to Love
04) Youth of America - YOA Rising
05) Bob Stanley & Pete Wiggs Present: Paris in the Spring (Ace compliation CD)
06) The Twilight Sad - It Won/t Be Like This All the Time
07) Sharon Van Etten - Remind Me Tomorrow
08) Bobby Rush - The Essential Recordings, Volume Two
09) Lisa Brigantino - I’ll Waltz Before I Go
10) Emmylou Harris - Wrecking Ball (3 LP set)
11) Dusty Springfield - Dusty in Memphis (Vinyl)
12) Bob Mould - Sunshine Rock
13) Bis - Slight Disconnects
14) Gary Clark Jr. - This Land
15) Joe Jackson - Fool
16) Stella Donnelly - Beware of the Dogs
17) Plastic Device - E. Pluribus Plastic
18) Ex Hex - It’s Real
19) The Zombies - Greatest Hits (vinyl)
20) Timi Turo - Best of (vinyl)
21) Kate Bush - The Other Sides (4CD)
22) Edwyn Collins - Badbea
23) Charles Mingus - Mingus Mingus Mingus (Vinyl)
24) Jenny Lewis - On the Line
25) Amy Rigby - Diary of a Mod Housewife (Vinyl)
26) Andrew Bird - My Finest Work Yet
27) Ese and the Vooduu People - Dynamite (EP)
28) Mdou Moctar - Ilana (The Creator)
29) Frightened Rabbit - Midnight Organ Fight (Vinyl)
30) Christone Ingram - Kingfish
31) Patience - Dizzy Spells
32) Wreckless Eric - Transience (Download first then vinyl)
33) Psyche France 1960-70 Volume 5 (vinyl)
34) Serge Gainsbourg - Initials B.B. (vinyl)
35) Divine Comedy - Office Politics
36) Toujours Chic! (vinyl)
37) Prince - Originals
38) The Murder Capital - When I Have Fears
37) Mattiel - Satis Factory
38) Isley Brothers - The Ultimate Isley Brothers
39) Merry Clayton (vinyl)
40) Tiny Changes: A Celebration of Frightened Rabbit’s The Midnight Organ Fight (CD)
41) Berlin - Trancendance
42) Harmonium
43) Rhett Miller - The Messenger
44) Maria McKee
45) The Highwomen
46) Tinariwen - Amadjar
47) Brittany Howard - Jaime
48) Angel Olsen - All Mirrors
49) Kim Gordon - No Home Record
50) Belle & Sebastian - Days of the Bagnold Summer soundtrack (vinyl)
51) Stan Smith - Silent Memory (CD)
52) Stan Smith - Moments [of a journey] (CD)
53) Amy Rigby - A One Way Ticket To My Life (CD)
54) The Jam - Sound Affects (vinyl)
55) The Muffs - No Holiday
56) Rhett Miller - The Believer
57) Soda Blonde - Terrible Hands (EP)
58) Michael Kiwanuka - Kiwanuka
59) Joe Henry - The Gospel According to Water
60) Leonard Cohen - Thanks For the Dance
61) Wussy - What Heaven is Like (vinyl)
62) The Who - WHO
63) Basement Beehive - The Girl Group Underground (2LP)
64 Parliament - Mothershp Connection
Used Vinyl:
Graham Parker and the Rumor - Squeezing Out Sparks
Be Our Guest - Highlights From 12 GNP Albums
Abba - The Visitors
Greatest Folksingers of the ‘Sixties - [Vanguard Records compilation]
Yaz - Upstairs At Eric’s
Isley Brothers - 3+3
Clarence Carter - Dr. C.C.
Lone Justice
Nina Simone - At the Village Gate
Billie Holiday’s Greatest Hits
Stevie Wonder - Talking Book
Corneilius Brothers and Sister Rose
Tee Set - Ma Belle Amie
R. Dean Taylor - I Think Therefore I
The Versatile Martin Denny Plays Theme From Mondo Cane and Suyiyaki
Night Shift Soundtrack
Absolute Beginners Soundtrack
Joe Jackson - Night and Day
George Duke - I Love the Blues, She Heard My Cry
Paul McCartney and Wings - Band on the Run
Barbara - l’agile noir
France Gall - Dancing Disco
Psyche France 1970-80 Volume 4
Plastic Bertrand - Chat (45)
The Grass Roots - Move Along
Lesley Gore - Love Me By Name
Marrs - Pump up the Volume (12” single)
The Girls Next Door
The Essex - Easier Said Than Done (45)
Jenny Mae - There’s a Bar Around the Corner, Asshole
Les Baxter’s Wild Guitars
Elvis Presley - The Sun Sessions
Michael Nesmith & the First National Band - Magnetic South
Ry Cooder - Show Time
Marshall Crenshaw
George Jones - Sings His Greatest Hits
Suzanne Vega
Phoebe Snow - The Best Of
Four Tops - Reach Out
Temptations - Psychedelic Shack
George Jones - Salues Hank Williams
George Jones - I’ll Share the World With You
Yellow Pills: Prefill - Numero 004
Tony Mottola’s Guitar Factory
The Best of the James Gang
Suzi Quatro - Your Mother Won’t Like Me
The Cuff Links - Tracy
Haircut One Hundred - Pelican West
Sweet Pea Atkinson - Don’t Walk Away
Leon Redbone - Double Time
Isaac Hayes - Chocolate Chip
Funkadelic - One Nation Under A Groove
Gerry Mulligan and the Concert Jazz Band - At the Village Vanguard
Bronski Beat - The Age of Concent
Murray The K’s Gassers For Submarine Race Watchers
Tuesday, December 31, 2019
Sunday, December 29, 2019
Not quite a binge
In the era of streaming, binge watching and not wanting to ever leave the house anymore I rarely get to a first run film. I am in the midst of St. Elsewhere season four and after watching Fleabag, Letterkenny, Killing Eve and so on there leaves little time for an hour and a half, let alone a two hour film.
Nevertheless here is the modest list of films I watched, streamed, saw on TCM, watched during international flights and the handful I went out in public to view.
It Happened in Flatbush
11 Harrowhouse
Way Out West
Solo: A Star Wars Film
Fyre: The Greatest Party That Never Happened
The Lobster
The Great Buster
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Teenage Superstars
That’ll Be the Day
Two For the Road
Ghostbusters (1984)
Tootsie
King of Jazz (1930)
Captain Marvel
US
Casino Royale (2006)
The Favourite
Can You Ever Forgive Me?
The Catcher Was A Spy
Avengers: Endgame
Rolling Thunder Revue
Paris je t’aime
To My Great Chagrin: The Unbelievable Story of Brother Theodore.
WLIR: Dare to Be Different
Local Hero
The LEGO Batman Movie
Dolemite is My Name
Dolemite (1974)
The Human Tornado
Parasite
Scotch: The Golden Dream
Knives Out
Echo in the Canyon
Die Hard
Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker
Nevertheless here is the modest list of films I watched, streamed, saw on TCM, watched during international flights and the handful I went out in public to view.
It Happened in Flatbush
11 Harrowhouse
Way Out West
Solo: A Star Wars Film
Fyre: The Greatest Party That Never Happened
The Lobster
The Great Buster
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Teenage Superstars
That’ll Be the Day
Two For the Road
Ghostbusters (1984)
Tootsie
King of Jazz (1930)
Captain Marvel
US
Casino Royale (2006)
The Favourite
Can You Ever Forgive Me?
The Catcher Was A Spy
Avengers: Endgame
Rolling Thunder Revue
Paris je t’aime
To My Great Chagrin: The Unbelievable Story of Brother Theodore.
WLIR: Dare to Be Different
Local Hero
The LEGO Batman Movie
Dolemite is My Name
Dolemite (1974)
The Human Tornado
Parasite
Scotch: The Golden Dream
Knives Out
Echo in the Canyon
Die Hard
Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker
Wednesday, November 27, 2019
Getting dangerously nostalgic
Working wine retail on Thanksgiving was an insane time, more wine was sold on Thanksgiving Eve than Christmas Eve. The build up was slow the weekend before and then boom! Tuesday and Wednesday were as busy as it got. Salesman flying in and out, special orders filled in a panic. Will the check clear? Dollars and merchandise had to be flipped.
Last night with the Beaujolais Nouveau always brings back memories of Thanksgiving pressure. A lot of change went to buy that wine, and it had to go by Christmas or it would sit months into the new year.
There were good years here in Columbus, and very bad years. There was success at the Holiday. The owner would always go to Ray Johnson’s for shrimp and the horse radish sauce. We’d open up a few bottles of good champagne to go with it. Times were almost happy. At the Grandview Avenue spot, not so much. The owner screwed up purchasing again, completely ignored the lower priced wine and homebrewers, and saying no to customers became tiring to the point of depression.
After I quit, for years after I would have this adrenaline rush around the holidays. I’d been in retail for 13 years and then I was out. The pressure working for Barnes and Noble was nowhere close to the energy I’d get out of selling wine that I had a hand in purchasing or knew about. That urge finally left a few years ago.
I still do not know how I did it, because at the end of the last run I was broken. My marriage was broken and it took a long time to return to something close to intact.
Last night with the Beaujolais Nouveau always brings back memories of Thanksgiving pressure. A lot of change went to buy that wine, and it had to go by Christmas or it would sit months into the new year.
There were good years here in Columbus, and very bad years. There was success at the Holiday. The owner would always go to Ray Johnson’s for shrimp and the horse radish sauce. We’d open up a few bottles of good champagne to go with it. Times were almost happy. At the Grandview Avenue spot, not so much. The owner screwed up purchasing again, completely ignored the lower priced wine and homebrewers, and saying no to customers became tiring to the point of depression.
After I quit, for years after I would have this adrenaline rush around the holidays. I’d been in retail for 13 years and then I was out. The pressure working for Barnes and Noble was nowhere close to the energy I’d get out of selling wine that I had a hand in purchasing or knew about. That urge finally left a few years ago.
I still do not know how I did it, because at the end of the last run I was broken. My marriage was broken and it took a long time to return to something close to intact.
Wednesday, November 13, 2019
Saturday, September 28, 2019
More on Propaganda for Preemies
I am very jealous of Dawn Raffel for having written The Strange Case of Dr. Couney: How A Mysterious European Showman Saved Thousands of American Babies. It’s a book and topic that has been in my head, hard drive and in a file of papers now on a bookshelf for about seventeen years.
After my son was born premature, I looked at a lot of books about premature babies and read about an Infantorium where the babies were hospitalized on Coney Island. Wait, what? Was my reaction and I immediately began searching online for any and all information on Dr. Couney. There was not much in 2002. I found Dr. William Silverman’s work from the 70’s and 80’s, a few scattered articles and little else.
I tried to find out more on the Doctor, his patients and ran into many dead ends. I did have a single email from one of his former patients which was great but did not lead to anything further. I spoke on the phone to one of the organizers of the Coney Island History Museum. He told me there was at least one person working on a book and when I asked if he had any idea where Dr. Couney’s papers were he said, “No, do you?”
While reading Ms. Raffel’s excellently researched book I saw that she had the same discoveries and dead ends that I did. Like her, I wanted to contact Dr. Silverman, but was unable to as he had died. But she had the ability to dig further, deeper and the talent to write it down beautifully. She was also unable to find his papers, and found out a lot more about his daughter than I was able to, with added speculation about her history. I always thought she was the key to a lot of his story, but most of that died with her.
Where I was able to find one of his former patients, Ms. Raffel was able to find several, and it led to a joyful reunion of some of them.
There is a great mystery to Dr. Martin Couney’s life, which is what compelled me to look into it for more than several hours a year over the past seventeen. It’s ability that I lacked in writing it down and Dawn Raffel has written a wonderful book that leaves a lot of questions open, but also provides many answers and unlocks more than a few doors about the profound life of a very enigmatic man.
After my son was born premature, I looked at a lot of books about premature babies and read about an Infantorium where the babies were hospitalized on Coney Island. Wait, what? Was my reaction and I immediately began searching online for any and all information on Dr. Couney. There was not much in 2002. I found Dr. William Silverman’s work from the 70’s and 80’s, a few scattered articles and little else.
I tried to find out more on the Doctor, his patients and ran into many dead ends. I did have a single email from one of his former patients which was great but did not lead to anything further. I spoke on the phone to one of the organizers of the Coney Island History Museum. He told me there was at least one person working on a book and when I asked if he had any idea where Dr. Couney’s papers were he said, “No, do you?”
While reading Ms. Raffel’s excellently researched book I saw that she had the same discoveries and dead ends that I did. Like her, I wanted to contact Dr. Silverman, but was unable to as he had died. But she had the ability to dig further, deeper and the talent to write it down beautifully. She was also unable to find his papers, and found out a lot more about his daughter than I was able to, with added speculation about her history. I always thought she was the key to a lot of his story, but most of that died with her.
Where I was able to find one of his former patients, Ms. Raffel was able to find several, and it led to a joyful reunion of some of them.
There is a great mystery to Dr. Martin Couney’s life, which is what compelled me to look into it for more than several hours a year over the past seventeen. It’s ability that I lacked in writing it down and Dawn Raffel has written a wonderful book that leaves a lot of questions open, but also provides many answers and unlocks more than a few doors about the profound life of a very enigmatic man.
Sunday, September 15, 2019
The Cars saved my life in high school
In the late 1970's, as a lonely high school kid, I thought The Cars were the coolest. Their debut and Candy-O lived on my turntable. There was something aloof about Ocasek. He seemed to be above all the craziness of rock stardom (he was about 10 years older, in his mid 30's, than everyone else). Great chords, flashy solos by Elliot Easton, quirky seemingly interchangeable vocals of Orr and Ocasek. It was all brought together by the stellar production of Roy Thomas Baker, who produced Queen's greatest work.
The Cars were the first band I ever saw live, although technically it was the opening band, XTC. We were in the last row of the Nassau Coliseum. We were still buzzed from a bottle of Canadian Club and I remember they chose a weird song, Shoo Be Doo as the opener. They were not flashy, and I am not sure if they were an ever meant to be arena band and I never did connect with the Panorama album - the one they were touring on. But it was not a bad show.
They really took off with the Shake It Up and Heartbeat City records, and those records were good, but I was moving on to other music.
Ocasek put out a few uneven solo records, reunited the group after Ben Orr's death. I was not really listening anymore. The memories will always be good though, and always there.
A few years ago, his daughter in law owned an art gallery in the Short North and put on a show of his work, which I did not really connect with. He was here for the opening and I was walking south on High and saw him and his family (including his wife Paulina) coming toward me. He was in black, black and white tie tied loosely around his neck, dark sunglasses on. He did not look much different than the late 70's. I was too stunned to say anything. I was stunned to see the news of his death cross my social media tonight.
Rest in Peace, Ric. Thank you for the music.
The Cars were the first band I ever saw live, although technically it was the opening band, XTC. We were in the last row of the Nassau Coliseum. We were still buzzed from a bottle of Canadian Club and I remember they chose a weird song, Shoo Be Doo as the opener. They were not flashy, and I am not sure if they were an ever meant to be arena band and I never did connect with the Panorama album - the one they were touring on. But it was not a bad show.
They really took off with the Shake It Up and Heartbeat City records, and those records were good, but I was moving on to other music.
Ocasek put out a few uneven solo records, reunited the group after Ben Orr's death. I was not really listening anymore. The memories will always be good though, and always there.
A few years ago, his daughter in law owned an art gallery in the Short North and put on a show of his work, which I did not really connect with. He was here for the opening and I was walking south on High and saw him and his family (including his wife Paulina) coming toward me. He was in black, black and white tie tied loosely around his neck, dark sunglasses on. He did not look much different than the late 70's. I was too stunned to say anything. I was stunned to see the news of his death cross my social media tonight.
Rest in Peace, Ric. Thank you for the music.
September is a busy month
Summer is leaving and fall, on the calendar at least because it's not in the air yet, is fast arriving. The Mets are on the outside looking in of a crazy wild card race, Everton are off to their embracing of mediocrity and somewhere in there I had a poetry feature.
As part of the Streetlight Guild's Rhapsody and Refrain series, I was asked by Scott Woods to take part. I agreed with some quiet trepidation as I have not read in public at any length for some time and writing has been, to be honest, very tough.
Yet I persevered and brought together a selection of poems, new and old.
For posterity, here's the set list
I already know about John Wayne, open a book (new)
The view from the patio of Atomic Liquors, Las Vegas, on a pleasant 95 degree evening (New)
Planned on this being about a rich Brit in an airport lounge calling Angela Merkel a nazi, but I'm keeping it local
The morning nod (new)
Notation
Before we went to Paris
Imposter father
From the streets of the under served
The luckiest ones
Is gun
David's rock
Ten reasons why I'd rather sit in my basement with a guitar than read a poem (new)
Space: the bigly frontier
After birth
Workshopping a strategic planning task force
For daredevils
The nail spa couch (new)
The last old reel spins (new)
All time none of the time
An obscene phone call from Mr. Potato Head
It went well, I hate my own work more than anyone and I felt comfortable with my personal review. Thought it was presented and paced properly. May have been too shouty, but that was my nerves and excitement. People seem to have genuinely liked it, and that counts the most.
Brought out the Danelectro guitar (and matching Hodad amp) for the 'ten reasons why poem' and tried to do a short riff between the stanzas. All I will say is it sounded better in the basement with no one watching. It looked really good though!
Felt alright to get back out there, maybe this month will inspire me to keep writing.
As part of the Streetlight Guild's Rhapsody and Refrain series, I was asked by Scott Woods to take part. I agreed with some quiet trepidation as I have not read in public at any length for some time and writing has been, to be honest, very tough.
Yet I persevered and brought together a selection of poems, new and old.
For posterity, here's the set list
I already know about John Wayne, open a book (new)
The view from the patio of Atomic Liquors, Las Vegas, on a pleasant 95 degree evening (New)
Planned on this being about a rich Brit in an airport lounge calling Angela Merkel a nazi, but I'm keeping it local
The morning nod (new)
Notation
Before we went to Paris
Imposter father
From the streets of the under served
The luckiest ones
Is gun
David's rock
Ten reasons why I'd rather sit in my basement with a guitar than read a poem (new)
Space: the bigly frontier
After birth
Workshopping a strategic planning task force
For daredevils
The nail spa couch (new)
The last old reel spins (new)
All time none of the time
An obscene phone call from Mr. Potato Head
It went well, I hate my own work more than anyone and I felt comfortable with my personal review. Thought it was presented and paced properly. May have been too shouty, but that was my nerves and excitement. People seem to have genuinely liked it, and that counts the most.
Brought out the Danelectro guitar (and matching Hodad amp) for the 'ten reasons why poem' and tried to do a short riff between the stanzas. All I will say is it sounded better in the basement with no one watching. It looked really good though!
Felt alright to get back out there, maybe this month will inspire me to keep writing.
Wednesday, August 28, 2019
Wednesday, August 14, 2019
Early promotion
On Wednesday, September 11th, I will be taking part in a reading sponsored by Streetlight Guild at Kafe Kerouac. 30 poets will be reading in 30 days in the Rhapsody and Refrain Series. I'm humbled and honored to be one of them.
It's been awhile since I've read anywhere and I've written some new poems for this event. There will be new and old poems, I'll even take requests in advance.
Here's my Instagram Page for more information.
It's been awhile since I've read anywhere and I've written some new poems for this event. There will be new and old poems, I'll even take requests in advance.
Here's my Instagram Page for more information.
Friday, August 2, 2019
Pulled back in for a night
After a few years of discussion with Scott Woods, we finally accomplished Pairings: A Night of Wine and Poetry at his new venue - Streetlight Guild. The poetry part was provided with great skill and whimsical gravitas by Zach Hannah.
A wine budget was established and I made the selections based on personal taste and wines which would engage and please the guest. Five wines were on the menu, and all five showed their excellence.
My self confidence is shot to Hell right now for many reasons, but this showed me that after 21 years away from hosting any form of wine event, that I still was competent and capable of flexing my wine knowledge when given the opportunity.
I mean, I can go on about Germans for hours, still.
The audience was receptive, positive, and that made so much difference.
Thanks again to Scott for trusting me with his space to put on a really cool event we've been kicking around for awhile. It may happen again.
A wine budget was established and I made the selections based on personal taste and wines which would engage and please the guest. Five wines were on the menu, and all five showed their excellence.
My self confidence is shot to Hell right now for many reasons, but this showed me that after 21 years away from hosting any form of wine event, that I still was competent and capable of flexing my wine knowledge when given the opportunity.
I mean, I can go on about Germans for hours, still.
The audience was receptive, positive, and that made so much difference.
Thanks again to Scott for trusting me with his space to put on a really cool event we've been kicking around for awhile. It may happen again.
Sunday, July 7, 2019
Paper Hearts
My friends Teri, Vernell, Fabio and Tyrone have made a wonderful short film. You should take four and a half minutes to watch it.
Paper Hearts from Sweet Pie Media on Vimeo.
Tuesday, June 4, 2019
A scratched surface
In France, in Paris, everywhere but here maybe, they drink Pastis. In my readings about wine, booze, and France, Pastis would always appear in someone's milky colored glass. Whether in a wine bar, a cafe, or after dinner in a garden, Pastis was there. What the Hell is it really? Reading about it did not provide a full answer, I would have to try it.
For our 10th wedding anniversary (yes, it's been that long!) my wife and I decided to go to Paris. It was time to take that leap into a truly foreign land where your language is not the native language. This was a trip to take while we were still capable of enjoying the city by foot.
Walk we did. The second day we took over 36,000 steps, that's over 15 miles. Ok, in hindsight it was a fooling and painful thing to do and I admit it being my decision. Yet, we continued to walk, but the number of steps was reduced.
Paris has a very good Metro. I read that the Metro was dirty and smelled of piss but at the numerous number of stations we used, this was far from the case. I mean, they were not spotless, but they were in fine condition and did not stink they way the subway does in Manhattan. Paris is not perfect, I'm not sure where the poverty is, but as we were being driven though one area we were told this was where the poor and immigrants are, and it did not look any worse than I would have expected. There are homeless, a lot of them are older. There are panhandlers. It's a very large city.
We chose to go to a truly beautiful city. So much to see and do that it could not be done in a week. As we looked down the charming streets we would see a building at the end of the block that looked interesting, but in order to see it we would have to not go where we were originally going.
Paris is where I found, in the Le Baron Rouge, the Parisian wine bar of my dreams. Locals, art on the walls, a friendly but knowledgable bartender who put up with my merde French.
Wine is a universal language though.
And on the wall of that wine bar I saw that Pastis was offered, and I had to have one. So I ordered one and watched to see how it was prepared. A shot or so of Pastis in the glass, then the rest of the glass filled with tap water and boom! There it is.
No fuss, no fancy prep or elite water cask.
For all that it was not a let down.
Pastis is primarily made with star anise. There are many variations that use different types of herbs but anise is the main ingredient so your drink is going to taste like a liquid Good N' Plenty.
I happen to love Good N' Plenty.
This wine bar happened to have bottles of Pastis Du Provence for sale. For 27 euros.
I now have a bottle of that at the Westgate Cavern.
Service is Paris restaurants and service in Columbus restaurants are two things that can learn from each other. Service in Paris is slow, no doubt about that, but you are on vacation - where are you going? In Columbus they're on top of you, the server telling you the "story" of the brand. You, thankfully, do not get that in Paris. They do not hover over you. You do get a trained, experienced, career server making good recommendations on the wine and food. But they rarely ask if you want another drink, or dessert. You have to get their attention and work for their service. It's not better, it's not worse, but different.
Not tipping is something that I really had to bear down and deal with. Occasionally I still had a leave a few euros out of habit. But hey, they all have great health care, and that's part of the bill!
I did think Paris would be more expensive, but where we went prices seemed reasonable. You are in a big freaking city and you pay. Plus, we got driven by a house that cost over 200 million dollars so there are top dollar areas.
I did not get to as many museums as I would have liked. Two things prevented that: time, and crowds. Ok three things. I bought advance timed ticked to the Louvre on Monday morning. We got there, and saw this huge line. Went to the front of the line to see what was going on. No one was being let in the museum. The line was tremendous, and it was the one for advance tickets. Then we heard a few people start muttering the word 'strike'. The staff was on strike. No one was being let in the museum and we were not going to stand in line for 2-3 hours and not move anywhere. It turns out staff were on strike because attendance had increased to over 10 million people per year (30,000 a day) and staff were being cut. I was eating those ticket. The good thing is that the company I bought the tickets from have me a refund.
So no Louvre but we did get to the Rodin, Jacquemart-Andre, L'Orangerie and the Museum of Romantic Life.
The big highlight was a three hour tour of the city in a Citroen DS23 convertible. The Goddess! Truly a beautiful car with a wonderful driver and guide. We had champagne in the back seat, and so many admiring glances while driving the narrow streets. There was a chance encounter with an all girl pep band playing Bonnie Tyler's Holding Out For A Hero on the banks of the Seine. "That was one of my secret romantic stops," our driver apologized while my wife and I laughed our asses off. It was wonderful. Being driven around Paris with my gal next to me in the back seat, and two laps around the Arc Du Triomphe, was a life highlight
We did so much: Pere Lachaise is beautiful, the Catacombs are creepy and incredible, I had the best baguette in Paris, our hotel staff was amazing and the people are cool - including a barely five foot tall chocolatier. I'm sure I'm missing a lot.
The flight over on Air Canada was ok in comparison to the flight back. United screwed up on so many levels it is disturbing.
Took a lot of pictures. Drank my way through the crus of Beaujolais, had some awesome cocktails in a very cool and trendy bar. Ate great gratin, want to go back. There's a lot to do here, to see and experience.
For our 10th wedding anniversary (yes, it's been that long!) my wife and I decided to go to Paris. It was time to take that leap into a truly foreign land where your language is not the native language. This was a trip to take while we were still capable of enjoying the city by foot.
Walk we did. The second day we took over 36,000 steps, that's over 15 miles. Ok, in hindsight it was a fooling and painful thing to do and I admit it being my decision. Yet, we continued to walk, but the number of steps was reduced.
Paris has a very good Metro. I read that the Metro was dirty and smelled of piss but at the numerous number of stations we used, this was far from the case. I mean, they were not spotless, but they were in fine condition and did not stink they way the subway does in Manhattan. Paris is not perfect, I'm not sure where the poverty is, but as we were being driven though one area we were told this was where the poor and immigrants are, and it did not look any worse than I would have expected. There are homeless, a lot of them are older. There are panhandlers. It's a very large city.
We chose to go to a truly beautiful city. So much to see and do that it could not be done in a week. As we looked down the charming streets we would see a building at the end of the block that looked interesting, but in order to see it we would have to not go where we were originally going.
Paris is where I found, in the Le Baron Rouge, the Parisian wine bar of my dreams. Locals, art on the walls, a friendly but knowledgable bartender who put up with my merde French.
Wine is a universal language though.
And on the wall of that wine bar I saw that Pastis was offered, and I had to have one. So I ordered one and watched to see how it was prepared. A shot or so of Pastis in the glass, then the rest of the glass filled with tap water and boom! There it is.
No fuss, no fancy prep or elite water cask.
For all that it was not a let down.
Pastis is primarily made with star anise. There are many variations that use different types of herbs but anise is the main ingredient so your drink is going to taste like a liquid Good N' Plenty.
I happen to love Good N' Plenty.
This wine bar happened to have bottles of Pastis Du Provence for sale. For 27 euros.
I now have a bottle of that at the Westgate Cavern.
Service is Paris restaurants and service in Columbus restaurants are two things that can learn from each other. Service in Paris is slow, no doubt about that, but you are on vacation - where are you going? In Columbus they're on top of you, the server telling you the "story" of the brand. You, thankfully, do not get that in Paris. They do not hover over you. You do get a trained, experienced, career server making good recommendations on the wine and food. But they rarely ask if you want another drink, or dessert. You have to get their attention and work for their service. It's not better, it's not worse, but different.
Not tipping is something that I really had to bear down and deal with. Occasionally I still had a leave a few euros out of habit. But hey, they all have great health care, and that's part of the bill!
I did think Paris would be more expensive, but where we went prices seemed reasonable. You are in a big freaking city and you pay. Plus, we got driven by a house that cost over 200 million dollars so there are top dollar areas.
I did not get to as many museums as I would have liked. Two things prevented that: time, and crowds. Ok three things. I bought advance timed ticked to the Louvre on Monday morning. We got there, and saw this huge line. Went to the front of the line to see what was going on. No one was being let in the museum. The line was tremendous, and it was the one for advance tickets. Then we heard a few people start muttering the word 'strike'. The staff was on strike. No one was being let in the museum and we were not going to stand in line for 2-3 hours and not move anywhere. It turns out staff were on strike because attendance had increased to over 10 million people per year (30,000 a day) and staff were being cut. I was eating those ticket. The good thing is that the company I bought the tickets from have me a refund.
So no Louvre but we did get to the Rodin, Jacquemart-Andre, L'Orangerie and the Museum of Romantic Life.
The big highlight was a three hour tour of the city in a Citroen DS23 convertible. The Goddess! Truly a beautiful car with a wonderful driver and guide. We had champagne in the back seat, and so many admiring glances while driving the narrow streets. There was a chance encounter with an all girl pep band playing Bonnie Tyler's Holding Out For A Hero on the banks of the Seine. "That was one of my secret romantic stops," our driver apologized while my wife and I laughed our asses off. It was wonderful. Being driven around Paris with my gal next to me in the back seat, and two laps around the Arc Du Triomphe, was a life highlight
We did so much: Pere Lachaise is beautiful, the Catacombs are creepy and incredible, I had the best baguette in Paris, our hotel staff was amazing and the people are cool - including a barely five foot tall chocolatier. I'm sure I'm missing a lot.
The flight over on Air Canada was ok in comparison to the flight back. United screwed up on so many levels it is disturbing.
Took a lot of pictures. Drank my way through the crus of Beaujolais, had some awesome cocktails in a very cool and trendy bar. Ate great gratin, want to go back. There's a lot to do here, to see and experience.
Monday, June 3, 2019
From dr.jimmyschukwu@yahoo.com
Subjext: Your payment
How are you today?
It has come to our notice that you have not received your payment despite been cleared by the authorized Financial regulatory bodies and It was also discovered that some unscrupulous individuals aiming to frustrating all your efforts have removed some vital documents from your payment file.
After much strict scrutiny on your file, we discovered that some top government officials especially in banks are working against your interest in this case.
So I have decided to help you get your funds within 8 hours from now
You are to contact me immediately for the setting up your transfer ok
Note that, All that is remaining now is for the Central bank of Nigeria to perfect a release order, sign to undo the indivisible quagmire through legal means and as such, You will no longer need all the clearance paperwork or any kind of unending bureaucratic bottlenecks as your funds does not attract any penalty or demand for terrorism clearance in international banking operation OK.
You are required to pay the sum of US$85 for the Central bank of Nigeria to perfect a release order, sign to undo the indivisible quagmire through legal means and can sign the release order of your funds without any delay.
Contact Your to contact
Mr. Randy Davis
Chief, Special duties,ministry of finance
Federal Republic of Nigeria
How are you today?
It has come to our notice that you have not received your payment despite been cleared by the authorized Financial regulatory bodies and It was also discovered that some unscrupulous individuals aiming to frustrating all your efforts have removed some vital documents from your payment file.
After much strict scrutiny on your file, we discovered that some top government officials especially in banks are working against your interest in this case.
So I have decided to help you get your funds within 8 hours from now
You are to contact me immediately for the setting up your transfer ok
Note that, All that is remaining now is for the Central bank of Nigeria to perfect a release order, sign to undo the indivisible quagmire through legal means and as such, You will no longer need all the clearance paperwork or any kind of unending bureaucratic bottlenecks as your funds does not attract any penalty or demand for terrorism clearance in international banking operation OK.
You are required to pay the sum of US$85 for the Central bank of Nigeria to perfect a release order, sign to undo the indivisible quagmire through legal means and can sign the release order of your funds without any delay.
Contact Your to contact
Mr. Randy Davis
Chief, Special duties,ministry of finance
Federal Republic of Nigeria
Friday, May 10, 2019
Temporary breakthrough
To say that I have written very little lately is an obvious understatement. I'm not even talking about updating this blog, but writing in general. The addictive time suck of social media, along with a lack of confidence has really caused me to essentially stop writing. It's been months since I've written a poem.
Months.
Since Meatgrinder last July, perhaps?
It's been a few years since I've written with any energy and grief stopped that in its tracks. Now, I have zero confidence in putting any thought to paper, let alone want to present it to people at a reading. I think I have successfully erased myself from the Columbus poetry scene. That's how low I feel.
Something was festering in my head for a few weeks though. The germ of a thought that came from an observation. Could I put it down and feel like i am not mining my son's life, which is (again) what the poem is about?
There was a moment in time before a webinar today when I set pen to paper and hoped. It took less than five minutes for most of it to be put down. I refrained from putting the paper in the shredder. During the webinar I edited it a bit and in typing at home it got edited a bit more.
Not the best, far from it. Not the worst, far from it. But it's something, and it's been a long time since I put something down that I did not immediately hide or erase.
Months.
Since Meatgrinder last July, perhaps?
It's been a few years since I've written with any energy and grief stopped that in its tracks. Now, I have zero confidence in putting any thought to paper, let alone want to present it to people at a reading. I think I have successfully erased myself from the Columbus poetry scene. That's how low I feel.
Something was festering in my head for a few weeks though. The germ of a thought that came from an observation. Could I put it down and feel like i am not mining my son's life, which is (again) what the poem is about?
There was a moment in time before a webinar today when I set pen to paper and hoped. It took less than five minutes for most of it to be put down. I refrained from putting the paper in the shredder. During the webinar I edited it a bit and in typing at home it got edited a bit more.
Not the best, far from it. Not the worst, far from it. But it's something, and it's been a long time since I put something down that I did not immediately hide or erase.
Friday, April 19, 2019
The high horses on keyboards
I'm old enough to remember when a lot of people lost them minds when a dude solicited donations through gofundme for a potato salad recipe.
Now it's shifted to people policing where people give their charity to. Most recently the renovation of the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris after it sustained heavy damage in a fire this week.
"But the Catholic Church is bad."
"The church no longer owns the cathedral"
"But the Catholic Church is bad"
"It's a living, breathing work of art and museum."
"But the Catholic Church is bad."
"It's a touchstone of Paris, a cultural and cartographic icon of France."
"But the Catholic Church is bad."
While we're still able, people have the right to donate their money where they wish, whether it be to victims of rape, church renovation or saving a barrier reef. It's the judgement, the sanctimony, that is grosser than the transgressions which lead to the solicitation of funds.
Now it's shifted to people policing where people give their charity to. Most recently the renovation of the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris after it sustained heavy damage in a fire this week.
"But the Catholic Church is bad."
"The church no longer owns the cathedral"
"But the Catholic Church is bad"
"It's a living, breathing work of art and museum."
"But the Catholic Church is bad."
"It's a touchstone of Paris, a cultural and cartographic icon of France."
"But the Catholic Church is bad."
While we're still able, people have the right to donate their money where they wish, whether it be to victims of rape, church renovation or saving a barrier reef. It's the judgement, the sanctimony, that is grosser than the transgressions which lead to the solicitation of funds.
Wednesday, April 17, 2019
Your algorithms and metrics are driving me away
There is a real cocksuredness about social media that bothers me. Discussion has all but disappeared, replaced by people who simply post and say 'prove me wrong' or 'fight me' or 'don't @ me'
It bores me to tears. So I mute, unfollow, snooze or simply remove said person out of my life. The frustration grows when facebook only shows me about a half dozen posts at a time. That's not engagement, it's shackling and I do not know how much more I can take.
Despite the pleas of users, the activity becomes worse, the tedium increases and the fun is in the rear view mirror. There's no replacement in sight, other than completely disappearing.
I've already self-cancelled myself out of the local poetry scene here, the only major thing keeping me on Zuckerberg's folly are the deathpools.
Think I need to retire, get a dog, and hope he or she is not bothered by my guitar playing.
It bores me to tears. So I mute, unfollow, snooze or simply remove said person out of my life. The frustration grows when facebook only shows me about a half dozen posts at a time. That's not engagement, it's shackling and I do not know how much more I can take.
Despite the pleas of users, the activity becomes worse, the tedium increases and the fun is in the rear view mirror. There's no replacement in sight, other than completely disappearing.
I've already self-cancelled myself out of the local poetry scene here, the only major thing keeping me on Zuckerberg's folly are the deathpools.
Think I need to retire, get a dog, and hope he or she is not bothered by my guitar playing.
Sunday, March 31, 2019
A Blogger's Life for...me?
Ten years ago I posted to my Live Journal account for the last time. I did not delete my account, and have made comments on other people's posts but there has been no original content posted by me since then.
It was a site where there were no character limits, where people posted the minutia of their days along with some rather spectacular writing - fiction or not. There was also a lot of drama, but there's no need to rehash that now.
For the most part, linking to tweets non-withstanding, it was a place that avoided the pithiness of today's social media sites. There was a sense of permanence to Live Journal posts that does not really adhere to Facebook or Twitter, and certainly not Snapchat. Even with the drama, it did not feel as cruel as a Twitter mob.
After the Russians bought the site, the demise really happened. Some people deleted their accounts, others (like me) simply abandoned them on the bleak landscape of the internet. Many people simply left with no explanation so you do not know what happened to them. Others (like me) left a forwarding address.
This platform, while useful, does not have the interaction that LJ had, and lacks the immediacy of Facebook or Twitter. It does, however, have the permanence. I can go back and look at posts from 5-10 years ago rather easily and see the demise of my writing and reading. It's not a shock, but a sad reality as I got into the time suck of those other two sites.
Thus I remain here, stubbornly, as well. Trying to find some sense in all of it amid the quick postings of dead musicians, with few pictures and for the most part - even less substance.
It was a site where there were no character limits, where people posted the minutia of their days along with some rather spectacular writing - fiction or not. There was also a lot of drama, but there's no need to rehash that now.
For the most part, linking to tweets non-withstanding, it was a place that avoided the pithiness of today's social media sites. There was a sense of permanence to Live Journal posts that does not really adhere to Facebook or Twitter, and certainly not Snapchat. Even with the drama, it did not feel as cruel as a Twitter mob.
After the Russians bought the site, the demise really happened. Some people deleted their accounts, others (like me) simply abandoned them on the bleak landscape of the internet. Many people simply left with no explanation so you do not know what happened to them. Others (like me) left a forwarding address.
This platform, while useful, does not have the interaction that LJ had, and lacks the immediacy of Facebook or Twitter. It does, however, have the permanence. I can go back and look at posts from 5-10 years ago rather easily and see the demise of my writing and reading. It's not a shock, but a sad reality as I got into the time suck of those other two sites.
Thus I remain here, stubbornly, as well. Trying to find some sense in all of it amid the quick postings of dead musicians, with few pictures and for the most part - even less substance.
Monday, March 25, 2019
Rest in Peace, Scott Walker
He was born in Hamilton, Ohio 76 years ago. Moved to California, made some records, became a huge multi-media star in the UK. Then he chucked it all away for the avant-garde and we're all better for it
Sunday, March 17, 2019
Shred in peace
My guitar teacher gave me a tab of some of this man's work. Some of it is technique, but so much is tone and feel. My wife did recognize what I was trying to do though.
Dick Dale was a true Influencer in guitar playing and manufacturing. The man was still going at the end, colostomy bag and all. He said he had to pay medical bills, but I think he also loved playing.
Dick Dale was a true Influencer in guitar playing and manufacturing. The man was still going at the end, colostomy bag and all. He said he had to pay medical bills, but I think he also loved playing.
Tuesday, March 5, 2019
Tuesday, February 26, 2019
Watching your difficult decision play out
Two weeks ago, I posted this about putting my son on an anti-psychotic medication.
Wow, that's a sentence you never want to write as a parent.
There are differences in him, mainly that he sleeps, a lot. With me at least, he mumbles what few words he does use. He used to speak to me a with more clarity. At school, this is not much of an issue. He has had at least one incident of self harm at his mother's, but it has been easier for her to help get him dressed in the morning.
I think he's in a safer place, maybe because he's so doped up he does not have the energy to act out.
I do not know. I do not miss the screaming, but the noticeable loss of energy is heartbreaking.
Wow, that's a sentence you never want to write as a parent.
There are differences in him, mainly that he sleeps, a lot. With me at least, he mumbles what few words he does use. He used to speak to me a with more clarity. At school, this is not much of an issue. He has had at least one incident of self harm at his mother's, but it has been easier for her to help get him dressed in the morning.
I think he's in a safer place, maybe because he's so doped up he does not have the energy to act out.
I do not know. I do not miss the screaming, but the noticeable loss of energy is heartbreaking.
Sunday, February 17, 2019
Delayed research with responses
It's been sitting there, unused, in the kitchen since we bought the house. During the inspection we saw that no water was going into it when it was turned on. Eventually, we'd get it fixed.
Fifteen months later, the dishwasher is still in the kitchen. It still was not working.
Granted, like the fireplace, the dishwasher was nice but we've never really used one before. Its presence was not why we bought the house. Unlike the fireplace though, I suspect it would not take several thousand dollars to get the dishwasher functioning.
Yesterday, tired of looking at it, I got the model number and went to the Internet to see what what was up. On YouTube I found a site that showed me what the problems of the dishwasher are. One main problem is that the float inside is jammed so no water can go in. Like the video suggested I got a wooden spoon and banged on the top of the float, to supposedly loosen whatever was blocking water flow.
I then did a dry run, as it were, and started the dishwasher up. It came to life, it made sounds like there was actual water flow. The basin was filling. The dishwasher had come to its destiny as a household appliance!
Then my wife looked at the toilet.
The bowl was kind of bubbling, like a tiny spring. It seems the toilet and dishwasher share the same inflow pipe. There was nothing wrong with the toilet, it was not filling up at it's normal rate when the dishwasher was working. A good fact to know.
This is a manageable situation, much easier than the old place when you could not do laundry and take a shower, or flush the toilet while doing the dishes.
Then we noticed one of our sinks.
There are side by side sinks in the kitchen. One of them has a non-functioning garbage disposal unit, which is fine, neither of us have ever had a working one and they seem to cause more problems than their worth - like right now.
All the spent water from the dishwasher had flowed upward into the sink where the garbage disposal unit is. It was a bit more than half full of warm water.
My response was to get out the plunger and plunge through the blockage of the disposal sink, and that seems to have solved that problem at the moment as the dishwasher finished its cycle with no further issues.
I have never bought soap for a dishwasher before so there will be an adventure at the grocery later. Not sure when we'll do our first real dishwasher session, but boy 2019 is going to be a fascinating year. Or one day in late February.
Best thing about all of this excitement is there were no tears, no cursing and best of all, no flooding.
Fifteen months later, the dishwasher is still in the kitchen. It still was not working.
Granted, like the fireplace, the dishwasher was nice but we've never really used one before. Its presence was not why we bought the house. Unlike the fireplace though, I suspect it would not take several thousand dollars to get the dishwasher functioning.
Yesterday, tired of looking at it, I got the model number and went to the Internet to see what what was up. On YouTube I found a site that showed me what the problems of the dishwasher are. One main problem is that the float inside is jammed so no water can go in. Like the video suggested I got a wooden spoon and banged on the top of the float, to supposedly loosen whatever was blocking water flow.
I then did a dry run, as it were, and started the dishwasher up. It came to life, it made sounds like there was actual water flow. The basin was filling. The dishwasher had come to its destiny as a household appliance!
Then my wife looked at the toilet.
The bowl was kind of bubbling, like a tiny spring. It seems the toilet and dishwasher share the same inflow pipe. There was nothing wrong with the toilet, it was not filling up at it's normal rate when the dishwasher was working. A good fact to know.
This is a manageable situation, much easier than the old place when you could not do laundry and take a shower, or flush the toilet while doing the dishes.
Then we noticed one of our sinks.
There are side by side sinks in the kitchen. One of them has a non-functioning garbage disposal unit, which is fine, neither of us have ever had a working one and they seem to cause more problems than their worth - like right now.
All the spent water from the dishwasher had flowed upward into the sink where the garbage disposal unit is. It was a bit more than half full of warm water.
My response was to get out the plunger and plunge through the blockage of the disposal sink, and that seems to have solved that problem at the moment as the dishwasher finished its cycle with no further issues.
I have never bought soap for a dishwasher before so there will be an adventure at the grocery later. Not sure when we'll do our first real dishwasher session, but boy 2019 is going to be a fascinating year. Or one day in late February.
Best thing about all of this excitement is there were no tears, no cursing and best of all, no flooding.
Tuesday, February 12, 2019
The hard parental choices
The problems began in October. My son did not want to get dressed at his Mother's house to get ready for school. This escalated into a much bigger problem for her, and for him.
Being a non-verbal teenager has to be one frustrating way to go through life, it's really hard to watch and live with. His behavior changed due to, what? Hormones, another illness, something happening to him we do not know about because he cannot speak. In any case, he was not safe due to his self harming behaviors.
We did, eventually, get him to a doctor and she heard us and saw him at his best and worst. Blood was drawn (it took four people to hold him down and one to do the draw), and we found out his strep levels were elevated. From here we learned of a condition called PANDAS in which people display very aggressive and obsessive/compulsive behaviors when they have strep. He was given antibiotics in liquid form, and his behaviors did not really diminish much.
A return to the doctor resulted in us receiving a prescription for a rather powerful drug, which we give him in pill form. It's a fast dissolving tablet that he is allowing us to give to him with no real difficulty. He initially was supposed to get an X dose, but his mother and I suggested a lower dose to start, because we've never seen the effects of the drug. She agreed.
The drug tired him out, we think he slept more, some of the behaviors diminished but he's still not allowing his mother to dress him in the morning. Last week we went to the dose the doctor suggested and it's knocked him on his ass. It's really odd to see him so lethargic. I'm used to the noise out of him, and it's vanished. He's also not screaming, or doing the dangerous behaviors.
I have to accept this trade off, for now. It's difficult and sad to witness. I understand the drug takes time to take full effect. Oddly enough the drug's main side effect is weight gain, which is in the irony of life is desirable.
He's in there, and for whatever reasons he is not happy. I do not know what his being on this drug will help with his feelings, his anxieties. It's making him safe from his own hands though, and that going away has been worth the risk. I did not ask to have to make this choice, but I have to help protect him.
Being a non-verbal teenager has to be one frustrating way to go through life, it's really hard to watch and live with. His behavior changed due to, what? Hormones, another illness, something happening to him we do not know about because he cannot speak. In any case, he was not safe due to his self harming behaviors.
We did, eventually, get him to a doctor and she heard us and saw him at his best and worst. Blood was drawn (it took four people to hold him down and one to do the draw), and we found out his strep levels were elevated. From here we learned of a condition called PANDAS in which people display very aggressive and obsessive/compulsive behaviors when they have strep. He was given antibiotics in liquid form, and his behaviors did not really diminish much.
A return to the doctor resulted in us receiving a prescription for a rather powerful drug, which we give him in pill form. It's a fast dissolving tablet that he is allowing us to give to him with no real difficulty. He initially was supposed to get an X dose, but his mother and I suggested a lower dose to start, because we've never seen the effects of the drug. She agreed.
The drug tired him out, we think he slept more, some of the behaviors diminished but he's still not allowing his mother to dress him in the morning. Last week we went to the dose the doctor suggested and it's knocked him on his ass. It's really odd to see him so lethargic. I'm used to the noise out of him, and it's vanished. He's also not screaming, or doing the dangerous behaviors.
I have to accept this trade off, for now. It's difficult and sad to witness. I understand the drug takes time to take full effect. Oddly enough the drug's main side effect is weight gain, which is in the irony of life is desirable.
He's in there, and for whatever reasons he is not happy. I do not know what his being on this drug will help with his feelings, his anxieties. It's making him safe from his own hands though, and that going away has been worth the risk. I did not ask to have to make this choice, but I have to help protect him.
Saturday, February 9, 2019
Fine dining is not dead
“Are you a musician?” The server asked me. “You look like someone I’ve seen before but I can’t place you.” After quizzing each other with various people and places we may have met, it turned out in the nineties we both worked at local wine shops and may have crossed paths at industry tastings. Maybe I’d recognize him clearer if he shaved his beard, but probably not.
It was the first time I’d been in The Refectory, one of the finest restaurants in the city, in my entire time here, and the moment I entered the main dining room I regretted missing out on those lost decades. It’s a beautiful space in an old church. The decor was fresh, there was nothing tired about the place.
And we were there now. Finally met the sommelier after following him on social media for a few years. He poured us a couple of amuse bouche samples of obscure Italian wines to start the show.
We had very good wine. She had antelope, I had the four course chef’s menu. The sous vide beef shoulder was outstanding. Nothing was rushed. The staff on the floor were all working together with a learned precision that was not pretentious, but natural. Our dinner a few years back at the Ubiquitous Chip in Glasgow was outstanding in quality and service, but last night went past that. The Refectory is a skilled team from front of house to back.
There was no way I could afford to go in there until now. Even when I was in the wine business in the nineties it could not be done.
As we ate I was thought about a quote a local chef recently said in an article about her. She said that fine dining was dead. This is the same chef who passively/aggressively insulted my wife in front of a dining room full of people. The same chef who partnered with a local brewery owner who is now accused of sexual assault by multiple women. Fine dining is not dead, it’s the lazy, uncreative and harmful attitudes of those who control the narrative that should be. On our way out we walked past one of the former food critics from the Dispatch, who had just finished his dinner. I was never fond of his writing style, it turned into a template the last few years of his reign. Yet when a place gets outstanding reviews for over thirty years, innovates with the times to provide a superior dining experience, you keep going back. As will we, sooner than later. It’s worth it.
It was the first time I’d been in The Refectory, one of the finest restaurants in the city, in my entire time here, and the moment I entered the main dining room I regretted missing out on those lost decades. It’s a beautiful space in an old church. The decor was fresh, there was nothing tired about the place.
And we were there now. Finally met the sommelier after following him on social media for a few years. He poured us a couple of amuse bouche samples of obscure Italian wines to start the show.
We had very good wine. She had antelope, I had the four course chef’s menu. The sous vide beef shoulder was outstanding. Nothing was rushed. The staff on the floor were all working together with a learned precision that was not pretentious, but natural. Our dinner a few years back at the Ubiquitous Chip in Glasgow was outstanding in quality and service, but last night went past that. The Refectory is a skilled team from front of house to back.
There was no way I could afford to go in there until now. Even when I was in the wine business in the nineties it could not be done.
As we ate I was thought about a quote a local chef recently said in an article about her. She said that fine dining was dead. This is the same chef who passively/aggressively insulted my wife in front of a dining room full of people. The same chef who partnered with a local brewery owner who is now accused of sexual assault by multiple women. Fine dining is not dead, it’s the lazy, uncreative and harmful attitudes of those who control the narrative that should be. On our way out we walked past one of the former food critics from the Dispatch, who had just finished his dinner. I was never fond of his writing style, it turned into a template the last few years of his reign. Yet when a place gets outstanding reviews for over thirty years, innovates with the times to provide a superior dining experience, you keep going back. As will we, sooner than later. It’s worth it.
Saturday, January 26, 2019
When the hunt eats you
Went to my off the beaten patch record store today to do some digging. And dig I did. For a change, I went in with a list of four records and ended up finding three of them. Purchased two since one of them was not in decent condition.
I’ve written about and told others about Memory Lane Records before and how it is so quirky. The owner is a fair man who today was in the rum and cokes. We were talking about a singer/songwriter who neither of us knew or could find out any information about. He somehow scored a single side of a five disc collection on VJ Records. It could have been a misspelling on the label, because I found a Wikipedia entry about this dude, Bobby Jameson. But the cataloger in me cannot find a true connection between the songs on the record and the songs he wrote. So be it.
Found five records to buy, and here is where the fun lies in this place - none of the records are priced. One of the records was a copy of Los Bravos’ Black Is Black in very good condition.
“Where did you find this?” Al asked as he marveled at its condition while turning the pages of his price book.
It had a book value of $75, he was going to charge me $50 and I passed on that. Al said he was probably going to take it home with him. He did play a couple of songs from it and may be still. It’s a very good record in excellent condition. I would have been thrilled to own it.
When I left I thanked him and said I was glad I could find that record for him. I’ll be back, but damn.
I’ve written about and told others about Memory Lane Records before and how it is so quirky. The owner is a fair man who today was in the rum and cokes. We were talking about a singer/songwriter who neither of us knew or could find out any information about. He somehow scored a single side of a five disc collection on VJ Records. It could have been a misspelling on the label, because I found a Wikipedia entry about this dude, Bobby Jameson. But the cataloger in me cannot find a true connection between the songs on the record and the songs he wrote. So be it.
Found five records to buy, and here is where the fun lies in this place - none of the records are priced. One of the records was a copy of Los Bravos’ Black Is Black in very good condition.
“Where did you find this?” Al asked as he marveled at its condition while turning the pages of his price book.
It had a book value of $75, he was going to charge me $50 and I passed on that. Al said he was probably going to take it home with him. He did play a couple of songs from it and may be still. It’s a very good record in excellent condition. I would have been thrilled to own it.
When I left I thanked him and said I was glad I could find that record for him. I’ll be back, but damn.
Saturday, January 19, 2019
Snapshot of floor time
The Scene: A child's bedroom, after dinner.
The child and his father are seated on the floor. Father is opening a container of Legos. Child is ignoring his father as the old man is putting together pieces, spinning wheels, and looking for the right piece for a tire rim. Child sits on his father's lap, a rather heavy experience for the old man. Child takes all the Lego pieces, puts them back in the container, moves the container away from his father, then gets up, turns out the light and leaves his father sitting on the bedroom floor.
Fin.
The child and his father are seated on the floor. Father is opening a container of Legos. Child is ignoring his father as the old man is putting together pieces, spinning wheels, and looking for the right piece for a tire rim. Child sits on his father's lap, a rather heavy experience for the old man. Child takes all the Lego pieces, puts them back in the container, moves the container away from his father, then gets up, turns out the light and leaves his father sitting on the bedroom floor.
Fin.
Tuesday, January 8, 2019
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