After work today, DJ V and I went out to the movies because I was so very excited to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest.
I loved the first movie a lot. Unfortunately, this movie dispenses with an age-old film convention - the ending. It is nothing but filler setting up the third installment. I found it very disappointing, all in all. Not enough Depp and too much exposition trying to be crammed into two hours. And lots of things rolling down hills. I half expected to see Kathleen Turner sliding down onto Captain Jack...
However, I will certainly be going to see the next one. And I hope it pays off.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
The Morning After
I really can't explain what happened after the show. Let it be sufficient to say that I couldn't find my glasses and my clothes seemed to be strewn about the hotel room in the morning. I was very disoriented. And, I think, DJ V was oddly smug. Hmmm.
The cure, obviously, was to visit Starbuck's while DJ V showered. I scampered across the street, and lo, if it was not the very same barista from yesterday afternoon! I got hooked up, and returned bearing libations to tide us over on the way to the MEGABUS.
Again, my string of excellent luck in hailing cabs in Chicago was unbroken, and we arrived with a lot of time to spare, and saw some folks carrying McDonald's sacks, so we asked where it was located. Somewhere deep in the bowels of Union Station apparently. It took us asking about sixteen different people to find our way to the fast food emporium. It got to the point where I was only retaining directions for a duration of 5 feet. Then I would stop and ask someone else for directions. I was afraid we would be forever trapped inside, just like the kids from the From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. We finally did find the joint, after spawning upstream against the tide of commuters. Thus fortified, we were all ready for the trip back to Cleveland.
Odd thing, though. The trip back seemed to take forever - it felt like we were going from Chicago to Cleveland, via Montana. Perhaps it was the lack of Marti and Liz. Perhaps it was the driver, who was straight out of the American Gothic painting. At any rate, DJ V and I found a way to pass the time. {substitute verbiage alert!}
We arrived home and hopped on the free trolley, as we were both tired of carrying our bags by this point. DJ V had to stop by her office for awhile and get caught up on things.
Then we were really hungry and took off to Carrabba's for some pasta.
The cure, obviously, was to visit Starbuck's while DJ V showered. I scampered across the street, and lo, if it was not the very same barista from yesterday afternoon! I got hooked up, and returned bearing libations to tide us over on the way to the MEGABUS.
Again, my string of excellent luck in hailing cabs in Chicago was unbroken, and we arrived with a lot of time to spare, and saw some folks carrying McDonald's sacks, so we asked where it was located. Somewhere deep in the bowels of Union Station apparently. It took us asking about sixteen different people to find our way to the fast food emporium. It got to the point where I was only retaining directions for a duration of 5 feet. Then I would stop and ask someone else for directions. I was afraid we would be forever trapped inside, just like the kids from the From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. We finally did find the joint, after spawning upstream against the tide of commuters. Thus fortified, we were all ready for the trip back to Cleveland.
Odd thing, though. The trip back seemed to take forever - it felt like we were going from Chicago to Cleveland, via Montana. Perhaps it was the lack of Marti and Liz. Perhaps it was the driver, who was straight out of the American Gothic painting. At any rate, DJ V and I found a way to pass the time. {substitute verbiage alert!}
We arrived home and hopped on the free trolley, as we were both tired of carrying our bags by this point. DJ V had to stop by her office for awhile and get caught up on things.
Then we were really hungry and took off to Carrabba's for some pasta.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Things To Do Before I Die - One Down
The day began very early, and we were very excited. We walked through a somewhat deserted downtown to Tower City, and ran inside to get some much needed coffee. While we were inside, the sky opened up, and we were treated to an early morning deluge. Luckily, it was ferocious, but short-lived, and we were able to get to the MEGABUS stop by the appointed time of 8:15 in the morning. One other lady was waiting there, and she had been a previous MEGABUS patron. I was so looking forward to this trip - it was costing us $40 for the two of us to go to Chicago and back, which, once you figured in gas, tolls and parking was ridiculously cheap. Besides the fact that we could have five hours to read magazines, listen to music, play with our laptops, daydream, nap, and not drive.
It was a great plan until the bus did not show up. Luckily, some other folks started calling the service center, and we learned that they were unable to get the bus started and our trip would be delayed. Eventually, a van pulled up, and one Mr. Lewis, our would-be driver, emerged and informed us that we would not be leaving before 11 am, and then he had to scurry back to the bus garage. Some of the erstwhile travelers subsequently left for other means of transportation - one booked a flight, one couple drove. The rest of the stalwarts left in shifts to forage for food and drink and restroom facilities. I made myself comfortable sitting on the sidewalk, until it started to rain and we had to seek shelter on the stairs in the lobby of the old Post Office. What was really cool was that the remaining core formed a kind of "Alive - Lost in the Andes" thing. Everyone looked out for each other's belongings, and pledges were made so that if someone went to get food, IF the bus came, we would not leave without them. And, in fact, the bus finally appeared at 10:40 am, and we were missing one passenger, TheGirlWithTheGuitar, and we all boarded and made Mr. Lewis wait for her. Mr. Lewis had been saddled with a non-Megabus, and was not familiar with many aspects of the operation of the bus. This meant that he enlisted the aid of one of the passengers, a high school drama teacher named Marti, to act as his "stewardess", getting everyone's reservation information, and asking her to tell us that we should only do "#1" in the on-board bathroom.
Marti, and her retired librarian sister, Liz, sat across the aisle from us and we became fast friends. They told us the tale about trying to see the King Tut exhibit in the 70's, when they went to Chicago three times and FINALLY got in -this time, they have timed tickets in hand. We also spent many miles listening to a the sister's performance art routine about how Marti makes Liz go see Midsummer's Night Dream over and over, and if Shakespeare wrote anything else at all. They were a hoot, and we wanted to hang out with them all day.
We had a rest stop, and as I was getting off the bus, there was a hugely giant bug right on the ground! I scooped it up with an errant subscription card to revel DJ V with, and Mr. Lewis got all excited and took it, apparently to "add to his collection." I never saw what he did with it, now that I think about it...
Inside the rest area, I was thrilled to see a penny squishing machine! DJ V and I had the fifty cents, but no pennies! We were asking folks if they had a spare, and TheGirlWithTheGuitar pressed a shiny penny into my palm. Somehow, Marti had lived her life without the pleasure of squishing pennies, so we showed her the intricacies of the device.
We arrived at Union Station, said our sad goodbyes to the sisters, and grabbed a taxi to take us to our hotel. We checked in and got settled, then decided to check out the neighborhood. Next door to the hotel was a Starbuck's - how lucky for me! We discerned that this particular Starbuck's was designated for GayMenAndTheirDogs. So, we weren't sure if we were going to be served. We went in anyway and chatted up the barista who was doing a more than admirable job of cashiering and barista-ing, given that her entire left hand and arm were wrapped in Ace bandages. She gave us some suggestions for dinner, and then we went exploring many shops. We discovered one store of very hip and funky clothes, and decided to see if we could find something for DJ V's upcoming show. I found a great motorcycle jacket made of cheetah fake fur that I really liked. The scary part was the clerk - a very thin older woman, both arms covered in tattoos, face pierced and sporting a mohawk. Wow.
We stumbled into a cafe for a quick meal, and as it was still fairly early, there were very few patrons, although DJ V pointed out that the subtitle of the restaurant should be the place for single, overweight women to dine...
We walked back to the hotel, showered, changed and got ready to go to the Green Mill to hear Patricia Barber perform. I was slightly anxious about the trip, as one guidebook described the location as a dicey neighborhood. But all was well, and we were dropped off right across the street. Patricia Barber is one of my all-time favorite musicians, and it had been a dream of mine to see her for the first time in this venue, as it is a small, neighborhood bar. I have had the chance to see her a couple of times at "real" concert halls, where the tickets were $60. I wanted to see her in her home space, for a $7 cover.
We arrived early enough to get a table about 12 feet from the stage, with a clear and direct sightline of the piano. I was terribly excited, and so I was looking forward to a few Knob Creek whiskeys. DJ V upped the ante on class, and ordered a few champagne splits and shots of Chambord and went about preparing her own Kir Royales.
Right on time, Patricia Barber arrived and I was shocked to see how tall and Amazonian she is. She wore black pants, a black tshirt and a black jacket, and she carried a wellworn leather portfolio that held her music. She sat at the piano and removed her shoes. The first piece had a long musical introduction, and the first intelligible word we heard from her was "Shit!" Maybe she she hit a wrong note...who can say?
She performed a lot of improvisational jazz pieces, with the guitarist and drummer taking long solos. There were few standards. The best pieces were Danson la Gigue, The Summer Of '42 (in the words of DJ V, "orgasmic!"), and a slow, minimalist Ode To Billy Joe.
At the set break, I found our waitress (we termed her BitchyGirl as she never smiled and hated her job) and asked her to deliver a cognac to Ms. Barber. The next thing I knew, Ms. Barber was standing to the side of our table, and lifted her cognac to us in a salute, and nodded her head and smiled before taking the stage. It was great.
After the show, I went up to the stage to talk to her, and she took my hand and held it for a very long time. I told her it was a great show, and she agreed and then said, "not all of them are."
Flushed with my proximity to greatness, I returned to the table, and DJ V went to the restroom - followed in by Patricia Barber. So it was cool that DJ V got her own private time with Patty B.
Here is an interesting little anecdote by Patricia Barber about the Green Mill, and the nature of her job...
The gigs at the Green Mill in Chicago are always wonderful.... The club is like home and I feel comfortable there. I've worked in bars so long now that I really do identify with the characters and physical surroundings. There is the ability to step into other people's lives and then to step out again. Clubs somehow provide a window into the lives and loves and losses of those who congregate there. I think that as a musician, I've become a semi-skilled voyeur. The stage where the musicians play can function like a reverse theatre; it is in fact a dividing line between those who are living at the moment and those who are working. We are working. Many nights of my life I've envied those who are not working and wondered how it was I got myself into performance instead of life. It's impossible not to look down from the stage and see the characters as they interact. I am working and they see me working... and of course sincere performance is a baring of the soul. But there is a reciprocity in the situation too. And after the years, I believe I know more about my audience than they could possibly think I do. Everything is revealed in rhythm.
It was a great plan until the bus did not show up. Luckily, some other folks started calling the service center, and we learned that they were unable to get the bus started and our trip would be delayed. Eventually, a van pulled up, and one Mr. Lewis, our would-be driver, emerged and informed us that we would not be leaving before 11 am, and then he had to scurry back to the bus garage. Some of the erstwhile travelers subsequently left for other means of transportation - one booked a flight, one couple drove. The rest of the stalwarts left in shifts to forage for food and drink and restroom facilities. I made myself comfortable sitting on the sidewalk, until it started to rain and we had to seek shelter on the stairs in the lobby of the old Post Office. What was really cool was that the remaining core formed a kind of "Alive - Lost in the Andes" thing. Everyone looked out for each other's belongings, and pledges were made so that if someone went to get food, IF the bus came, we would not leave without them. And, in fact, the bus finally appeared at 10:40 am, and we were missing one passenger, TheGirlWithTheGuitar, and we all boarded and made Mr. Lewis wait for her. Mr. Lewis had been saddled with a non-Megabus, and was not familiar with many aspects of the operation of the bus. This meant that he enlisted the aid of one of the passengers, a high school drama teacher named Marti, to act as his "stewardess", getting everyone's reservation information, and asking her to tell us that we should only do "#1" in the on-board bathroom.
Marti, and her retired librarian sister, Liz, sat across the aisle from us and we became fast friends. They told us the tale about trying to see the King Tut exhibit in the 70's, when they went to Chicago three times and FINALLY got in -this time, they have timed tickets in hand. We also spent many miles listening to a the sister's performance art routine about how Marti makes Liz go see Midsummer's Night Dream over and over, and if Shakespeare wrote anything else at all. They were a hoot, and we wanted to hang out with them all day.
We had a rest stop, and as I was getting off the bus, there was a hugely giant bug right on the ground! I scooped it up with an errant subscription card to revel DJ V with, and Mr. Lewis got all excited and took it, apparently to "add to his collection." I never saw what he did with it, now that I think about it...
Inside the rest area, I was thrilled to see a penny squishing machine! DJ V and I had the fifty cents, but no pennies! We were asking folks if they had a spare, and TheGirlWithTheGuitar pressed a shiny penny into my palm. Somehow, Marti had lived her life without the pleasure of squishing pennies, so we showed her the intricacies of the device.
We arrived at Union Station, said our sad goodbyes to the sisters, and grabbed a taxi to take us to our hotel. We checked in and got settled, then decided to check out the neighborhood. Next door to the hotel was a Starbuck's - how lucky for me! We discerned that this particular Starbuck's was designated for GayMenAndTheirDogs. So, we weren't sure if we were going to be served. We went in anyway and chatted up the barista who was doing a more than admirable job of cashiering and barista-ing, given that her entire left hand and arm were wrapped in Ace bandages. She gave us some suggestions for dinner, and then we went exploring many shops. We discovered one store of very hip and funky clothes, and decided to see if we could find something for DJ V's upcoming show. I found a great motorcycle jacket made of cheetah fake fur that I really liked. The scary part was the clerk - a very thin older woman, both arms covered in tattoos, face pierced and sporting a mohawk. Wow.
We stumbled into a cafe for a quick meal, and as it was still fairly early, there were very few patrons, although DJ V pointed out that the subtitle of the restaurant should be the place for single, overweight women to dine...
We walked back to the hotel, showered, changed and got ready to go to the Green Mill to hear Patricia Barber perform. I was slightly anxious about the trip, as one guidebook described the location as a dicey neighborhood. But all was well, and we were dropped off right across the street. Patricia Barber is one of my all-time favorite musicians, and it had been a dream of mine to see her for the first time in this venue, as it is a small, neighborhood bar. I have had the chance to see her a couple of times at "real" concert halls, where the tickets were $60. I wanted to see her in her home space, for a $7 cover.
We arrived early enough to get a table about 12 feet from the stage, with a clear and direct sightline of the piano. I was terribly excited, and so I was looking forward to a few Knob Creek whiskeys. DJ V upped the ante on class, and ordered a few champagne splits and shots of Chambord and went about preparing her own Kir Royales.
Right on time, Patricia Barber arrived and I was shocked to see how tall and Amazonian she is. She wore black pants, a black tshirt and a black jacket, and she carried a wellworn leather portfolio that held her music. She sat at the piano and removed her shoes. The first piece had a long musical introduction, and the first intelligible word we heard from her was "Shit!" Maybe she she hit a wrong note...who can say?
She performed a lot of improvisational jazz pieces, with the guitarist and drummer taking long solos. There were few standards. The best pieces were Danson la Gigue, The Summer Of '42 (in the words of DJ V, "orgasmic!"), and a slow, minimalist Ode To Billy Joe.
At the set break, I found our waitress (we termed her BitchyGirl as she never smiled and hated her job) and asked her to deliver a cognac to Ms. Barber. The next thing I knew, Ms. Barber was standing to the side of our table, and lifted her cognac to us in a salute, and nodded her head and smiled before taking the stage. It was great.
After the show, I went up to the stage to talk to her, and she took my hand and held it for a very long time. I told her it was a great show, and she agreed and then said, "not all of them are."
Flushed with my proximity to greatness, I returned to the table, and DJ V went to the restroom - followed in by Patricia Barber. So it was cool that DJ V got her own private time with Patty B.
Here is an interesting little anecdote by Patricia Barber about the Green Mill, and the nature of her job...
The gigs at the Green Mill in Chicago are always wonderful.... The club is like home and I feel comfortable there. I've worked in bars so long now that I really do identify with the characters and physical surroundings. There is the ability to step into other people's lives and then to step out again. Clubs somehow provide a window into the lives and loves and losses of those who congregate there. I think that as a musician, I've become a semi-skilled voyeur. The stage where the musicians play can function like a reverse theatre; it is in fact a dividing line between those who are living at the moment and those who are working. We are working. Many nights of my life I've envied those who are not working and wondered how it was I got myself into performance instead of life. It's impossible not to look down from the stage and see the characters as they interact. I am working and they see me working... and of course sincere performance is a baring of the soul. But there is a reciprocity in the situation too. And after the years, I believe I know more about my audience than they could possibly think I do. Everything is revealed in rhythm.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Let The Festivities Begin!
DJ V showed up this evening and picked me up so that we could leave for our vacation bright and early in the morning.
On her weekend journey, she picked up a couple of shirts for me - a lovely purple v neck Ralph Lauren Tshirt, and a GORGEOUS Ralph Lauren long-sleeved blue paisley shirt.
She has seen into my heart and seen the 70's guitar player lurking within.
On her weekend journey, she picked up a couple of shirts for me - a lovely purple v neck Ralph Lauren Tshirt, and a GORGEOUS Ralph Lauren long-sleeved blue paisley shirt.
She has seen into my heart and seen the 70's guitar player lurking within.
On The Discontinous Nature of this Blog
A day full of negative feedback from FaithfulReaders.
Too much about my personal life and not enough about pythons, I think is the bottom line.
But then, the second critique of the day came in, and I found it very insightful, so I wish to share a bit with you...
It's taken a bit of the fun out of reading your blog. Actually, that’s not necessarily true, it's just made reading it fun in a different way. It's like reading a love story, bit by bit, much like the Lake House. As for me, I fear that I am much like Sandra Bullock, always two years away from the grande passion...P2
So. Who knows what the future will hold? I will continue to write about events that intrigue me, and for the time being, the most intriguing thing I know is DJ V. Stick with me, if you will.
Too much about my personal life and not enough about pythons, I think is the bottom line.
But then, the second critique of the day came in, and I found it very insightful, so I wish to share a bit with you...
It's taken a bit of the fun out of reading your blog. Actually, that’s not necessarily true, it's just made reading it fun in a different way. It's like reading a love story, bit by bit, much like the Lake House. As for me, I fear that I am much like Sandra Bullock, always two years away from the grande passion...P2
So. Who knows what the future will hold? I will continue to write about events that intrigue me, and for the time being, the most intriguing thing I know is DJ V. Stick with me, if you will.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
How Many Prisoners Does It Take...
... to implant a lightbulb?
So bad. I refrained from drawing your attention to this story, FaithfulReaders, but I have succumbed to the pressures of bad humor.
My apologies.
So bad. I refrained from drawing your attention to this story, FaithfulReaders, but I have succumbed to the pressures of bad humor.
My apologies.
Friday, July 07, 2006
Freeing The Inner Geek
My day began with a discussion of the feebleness of Tyrannosaurus arms. I mean, really. What purpose did they serve? Tiny, disproportionate, weak little appendages. To which, much to my ongoing annoyance, my arms were compared. There was also a comparison made to snowmen stick-arms and fingers. Just because some people have mighty pterodactyl wing-span arms...
Anyway, after but a few hours of sleep, I arose and headed off to meet up with my dear Hollywood Stafford. We had some eye-opening coffee outside, and got a chance to visit and catch up. And I also got a good quid pro quo : Bang On A Can's Music for Airports and Josh Rouse's 1972. They look great. And I heard soome exciting news from Hollywood regarding his career plans, and the forthcoming baby, and then, some sad news regarding his Mom. My thoughts are with you, man.
Hollywood observed that I was "a pint low" and that it now looks like I've gotten a high-quality blood transfusion.
After our pre-work visit, I had time to go to Starbuck's and get treats for me and DJ Volvo (Pomegranate Frappuccino).
The big adventure of the day was when DJ V took me downstairs to the cafe, and showed me how to use a free wireless service while we had grilled cheese sandwiches. My inner geek was thrilled.
Anyway, after but a few hours of sleep, I arose and headed off to meet up with my dear Hollywood Stafford. We had some eye-opening coffee outside, and got a chance to visit and catch up. And I also got a good quid pro quo : Bang On A Can's Music for Airports and Josh Rouse's 1972. They look great. And I heard soome exciting news from Hollywood regarding his career plans, and the forthcoming baby, and then, some sad news regarding his Mom. My thoughts are with you, man.
Hollywood observed that I was "a pint low" and that it now looks like I've gotten a high-quality blood transfusion.
After our pre-work visit, I had time to go to Starbuck's and get treats for me and DJ Volvo (Pomegranate Frappuccino).
The big adventure of the day was when DJ V took me downstairs to the cafe, and showed me how to use a free wireless service while we had grilled cheese sandwiches. My inner geek was thrilled.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Habitual Thursday
A great morning - Starbuck's, reading the NYT's, doing the dishes, playing around with my iTunes (which means searching for obscure 45 picture sleeves for individual songs and other obsessive-compulsive activity).
Then I headed down to get two of DJ V's watches repaired, as well as getting a new battery and band for my "work" watch. While I was driving to the watch repair place, I couldn't help but notice the license plate of the car in front of me:
B4EARTH
Before Earth? Huh? Then, it hit me - it was on a Prius. Be For Earth. I had to call DJ V and tell her my next call would probably be from jail asking her for bail money, because I was compelled to drive right into that guy and slap him silly...
Now knowing the time, laden with four watches, I went up to Cleveland, and DJ V and I went to Captain Tonys' for pizza -complete with outdoor dining.
Before I had to be at work, I had enough time to accompany DJ V on a few of work-related tasks, which were in the most lovely areas of Cleveland (note to MyFriendJason - facetious voice), and included a stop at a completely boarded up house, where a beater car ws being towed out of the driveway, and a stop by a
costumer's home. This stop really tried my belief in people, as DJ V was out of visual range for an uncomforatbale amount of time. The good thing about the trip, besides the company and the music, was I spotted a lot of fading advertisements on old brick buildings that I hope to have time to come and photograph, now that I have my SuperCamera...
After work, I continued to save on gas, but extended the ownership of my car by staying in Cleveland. At this rate, I'll never get to 300,000...
We've settled in to a nice Thursday routine - I work til 2 am, and DJ V gets some personal time to do laundry, clean up the house, read magazines, practice juggling, get a pedicure, and God knows what else...and I get to come home to someone waiting for me on the couch.
The Captain could get used to this...in fact, it is a bit too late already.
Then I headed down to get two of DJ V's watches repaired, as well as getting a new battery and band for my "work" watch. While I was driving to the watch repair place, I couldn't help but notice the license plate of the car in front of me:
B4EARTH
Before Earth? Huh? Then, it hit me - it was on a Prius. Be For Earth. I had to call DJ V and tell her my next call would probably be from jail asking her for bail money, because I was compelled to drive right into that guy and slap him silly...
Now knowing the time, laden with four watches, I went up to Cleveland, and DJ V and I went to Captain Tonys' for pizza -complete with outdoor dining.
Before I had to be at work, I had enough time to accompany DJ V on a few of work-related tasks, which were in the most lovely areas of Cleveland (note to MyFriendJason - facetious voice), and included a stop at a completely boarded up house, where a beater car ws being towed out of the driveway, and a stop by a
costumer's home. This stop really tried my belief in people, as DJ V was out of visual range for an uncomforatbale amount of time. The good thing about the trip, besides the company and the music, was I spotted a lot of fading advertisements on old brick buildings that I hope to have time to come and photograph, now that I have my SuperCamera...
After work, I continued to save on gas, but extended the ownership of my car by staying in Cleveland. At this rate, I'll never get to 300,000...
We've settled in to a nice Thursday routine - I work til 2 am, and DJ V gets some personal time to do laundry, clean up the house, read magazines, practice juggling, get a pedicure, and God knows what else...and I get to come home to someone waiting for me on the couch.
The Captain could get used to this...in fact, it is a bit too late already.
This Week's Playlist - The EP
Here you go - write your own short story, again...
1. Rico Suave - Gerardo
2. Whip It - DEVO
3. Bang-A-Gong - T-Rex
4. You're The Top - Barbra Streisand and Ryan O'Neal
1. Rico Suave - Gerardo
2. Whip It - DEVO
3. Bang-A-Gong - T-Rex
4. You're The Top - Barbra Streisand and Ryan O'Neal
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Lazy Afternoon
My lazy Sunday...As it was MyDayOff, I like to spend my time doing things for other people (get your requests in now, folks), so I went to Starbuck's to get fortification for the day's tasks : laundry and designing a flyer for DJ V’s upcoming gig. It came out very well, I think...we'll see if THEY like it. Which is the reason I am not a REAL graphic designer. I don't work well with constraints.
DJ V came down for dinner, and as I had no plan for that yet, suggested that she stop and just pick up something. I loved that. I asked if she liked spaghetti, and she said, Who doesn't? Good point. So I said that she should call me when she was fifteen minutes away, and I would place a call for a couple of spaghetti dinners and she could pick me up on the way, and we could go get it together. I then told her it would be a a big adventure, because we would have to go through the Akron ghetto to get to the restuarant. DJ V retorts:
So, we're having spa-ghetto?
I haven't laughed that hard since maracas for deaf people...another long, long and very fuuny story.
We get home, with our spaghetto and garlic loaf, and open a bottle of 2001 Clos du Bois North Coast Zinfandel , and let me tell you, EVERYTHING was funny. Must be one potent vintage!
Following dinner, DJ V gives me a present wrapped in yellow tissue. Looked suspiciously like a CD. Turns out to be the CD I told her, in passing, I was looking for, but I referred to it as Laurie Anderson, the The Orange One because I couldn't remember what it was called. Not only did she remember that fleeting bit of information, she got it exactly right. She's good.
DJ V was richly rewarded for her efforts, though I am still scolded for my inappropriate laughter.
DJ V came down for dinner, and as I had no plan for that yet, suggested that she stop and just pick up something. I loved that. I asked if she liked spaghetti, and she said, Who doesn't? Good point. So I said that she should call me when she was fifteen minutes away, and I would place a call for a couple of spaghetti dinners and she could pick me up on the way, and we could go get it together. I then told her it would be a a big adventure, because we would have to go through the Akron ghetto to get to the restuarant. DJ V retorts:
So, we're having spa-ghetto?
I haven't laughed that hard since maracas for deaf people...another long, long and very fuuny story.
We get home, with our spaghetto and garlic loaf, and open a bottle of 2001 Clos du Bois North Coast Zinfandel , and let me tell you, EVERYTHING was funny. Must be one potent vintage!
Following dinner, DJ V gives me a present wrapped in yellow tissue. Looked suspiciously like a CD. Turns out to be the CD I told her, in passing, I was looking for, but I referred to it as Laurie Anderson, the The Orange One because I couldn't remember what it was called. Not only did she remember that fleeting bit of information, she got it exactly right. She's good.
DJ V was richly rewarded for her efforts, though I am still scolded for my inappropriate laughter.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
The SecretPlan
We woke up today, and I was very excited, because I had a SecretPlan in store for DJ V. The bad part of the plan was that, being a holiday, I did not expect that the downtown Starbuck's was going to be open.
DJ V, ever the optimist, was sure that they would be, so we walked on down to find out. And lo and behold and hallelujah, they were. I was so happy to celebrate my holiday properly.
Anyway, I told DJ V that we were going for a walk. She asked no questions and played along - just what you want from your PartnerInCrime.
And we strolled right into the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame, something DJ V had been wanting to do, but hadn't found the time. She was completely surprised. She had no idea, and I was truly Smiley McSmirkstein the rest of the day...
The big exhibit was a tribute to Bob Dylan entitled: Bob Dylan's American Journey: 1956 -1966. This big banner made me (yes, it MADE me) come up with a long, long tale about how Dylan may be overrated, but to think he did all of that great songwriting and stuff, and that he wrote with such maturity and wisdom, and given that he died at the tender age of 10 was truly impressive...I think I'm funny. We hastily walked thru that exhibut, and tried to watch the vintage video footage, but only made it through one song. Whining and harmonicas is a deadly combination...
One truly inspired exhibit, though, was a wall full of 45 covers of covers of Blowin' In The Wind. Lots of European covers by strange groups with stranger names, and a cover by Marlene Dietrich. Classic.
Just as before, the best part of the museum was the films. This time I got to see the inductee film in its entirety. I stil think it is the best. Although the tribute to MTV is wonderful, and made both DJ V and me yearn to see the complete Cher video for If I Could Turn Back Time, featuring the USS Missouri, the last battleship completed by the United States, and the site of the official Japanese surrender in World War II.
The "highlight" for us onthis trip was seeing Tiffany's I Think We're Alone Now denim vest, complete with tassles, like from a high school graduation cap.
I think the Rock Hall is missing out on a lot of opportunities, like having photographs of the musicians IN the costumes on display, and little iPody things where you can HEAR all of the vinyl that is on display. AND, a CD burning cafe ala Starbucks, where you can sit and make a compilation CD of stuff you discovered while in the museum...just some thoughts.
I also decided that I want to start a line of cars designed specifically for women, The first two models will be called The Vandella and The Shirelle. Genius.
We took advantage of the chance to get some sustanence, and got burgers and drinks and took them OUTSIDE ONTO THE PATIO, overlooking the lake and the skateboard park. It was great.
We strolled on back to DJ V's place, took showers and I played her fancy, exotic wood guitar. Theonly remaining song in my memory at this time is What'd I Say by Brother Ray Charles. I seem to even have forgotten my signature pieces, My Cherie Amour and Batman, the PenPal's favorite request.
Ah, There's no chill and yet I shiver...
So, we went out to dinner at Red Lobster because I REALLY was craving shrimp and a baked potato. And it was there that DJ V looked at me and asked me what I was thinking. And so I told her ThatWhichShallNotBe Said. Then DJ V couldn't finish her meal, nor could she help me finish off the chocolate cake dessert...All in all, this did not happen in the manner I would have planned, but there is something to be said for being in the moment and not planning...talk about a paradigm shift.
We headed back to my house, and had to park several blocks away...and there we were on the sidewalk, and fireworks started going off overhead from the country club. I had never been that close to fireworks before - close enough to see the actual explosion. It was a great show, and just as it ended, it started to sprinkle.
Once safely indoors, I fired up the Cher video, and then treated DJ V to my Patricia Barber DVD, to prepare her for our trip...and the night passed in celebration.
DJ V, ever the optimist, was sure that they would be, so we walked on down to find out. And lo and behold and hallelujah, they were. I was so happy to celebrate my holiday properly.
Anyway, I told DJ V that we were going for a walk. She asked no questions and played along - just what you want from your PartnerInCrime.
And we strolled right into the Rock and Roll Hall Of Fame, something DJ V had been wanting to do, but hadn't found the time. She was completely surprised. She had no idea, and I was truly Smiley McSmirkstein the rest of the day...
The big exhibit was a tribute to Bob Dylan entitled: Bob Dylan's American Journey: 1956 -1966. This big banner made me (yes, it MADE me) come up with a long, long tale about how Dylan may be overrated, but to think he did all of that great songwriting and stuff, and that he wrote with such maturity and wisdom, and given that he died at the tender age of 10 was truly impressive...I think I'm funny. We hastily walked thru that exhibut, and tried to watch the vintage video footage, but only made it through one song. Whining and harmonicas is a deadly combination...
One truly inspired exhibit, though, was a wall full of 45 covers of covers of Blowin' In The Wind. Lots of European covers by strange groups with stranger names, and a cover by Marlene Dietrich. Classic.
Just as before, the best part of the museum was the films. This time I got to see the inductee film in its entirety. I stil think it is the best. Although the tribute to MTV is wonderful, and made both DJ V and me yearn to see the complete Cher video for If I Could Turn Back Time, featuring the USS Missouri, the last battleship completed by the United States, and the site of the official Japanese surrender in World War II.
The "highlight" for us onthis trip was seeing Tiffany's I Think We're Alone Now denim vest, complete with tassles, like from a high school graduation cap.
I think the Rock Hall is missing out on a lot of opportunities, like having photographs of the musicians IN the costumes on display, and little iPody things where you can HEAR all of the vinyl that is on display. AND, a CD burning cafe ala Starbucks, where you can sit and make a compilation CD of stuff you discovered while in the museum...just some thoughts.
I also decided that I want to start a line of cars designed specifically for women, The first two models will be called The Vandella and The Shirelle. Genius.
We took advantage of the chance to get some sustanence, and got burgers and drinks and took them OUTSIDE ONTO THE PATIO, overlooking the lake and the skateboard park. It was great.
We strolled on back to DJ V's place, took showers and I played her fancy, exotic wood guitar. Theonly remaining song in my memory at this time is What'd I Say by Brother Ray Charles. I seem to even have forgotten my signature pieces, My Cherie Amour and Batman, the PenPal's favorite request.
Ah, There's no chill and yet I shiver...
So, we went out to dinner at Red Lobster because I REALLY was craving shrimp and a baked potato. And it was there that DJ V looked at me and asked me what I was thinking. And so I told her ThatWhichShallNotBe Said. Then DJ V couldn't finish her meal, nor could she help me finish off the chocolate cake dessert...All in all, this did not happen in the manner I would have planned, but there is something to be said for being in the moment and not planning...talk about a paradigm shift.
We headed back to my house, and had to park several blocks away...and there we were on the sidewalk, and fireworks started going off overhead from the country club. I had never been that close to fireworks before - close enough to see the actual explosion. It was a great show, and just as it ended, it started to sprinkle.
Once safely indoors, I fired up the Cher video, and then treated DJ V to my Patricia Barber DVD, to prepare her for our trip...and the night passed in celebration.
Monday, July 03, 2006
Let The Festivities Begin
There is something very pleasing about calling your own house to wake up someone so that they get to work on time...
That being said, I was running on very little sleep. Luckily, the morning went smoothly, and nicely, given that three of my employees wanted some personal time with me, which involved walking about, or sitting down for coffee...
DJ V only had to work a half day because of the upcoming holiday, so she showed up at 2 pm to take me out to buy a camera -the logic in that statement is obvious and needs no explanation. We GPS'd a camera store, and upon arrival found that it was closed - well, not closed - it didn't exist anymore. Dang lying technology! We then decided we were starving, and went to what seemed like 30 restaurants before we found one that was A. open and B. serving lunch.
And so it was that I finally got to eat at the Cabin Club where we were treated to white linen table cloths and exposed oak beams, fine dining and trophy wines served in a rustic log cabin by waitresses in pressed, long sleeved white Polo buttondowns and very short black cheerleader skirts. An odd look to be sure, but very Great Northern Hotel, with good pasta. The owls are not what they seem.
DJ V dropped me off at my car, where we ran into JLo and had a little visit, then I went home to clean up. DJ V arrived about an hour later to pick me up for the party we were attending. As fate would have it, one of the wine newsletters I subscribe to had sent me an email notification that afternoon raving about the Best Wine For Barbecues, which is exactly where we were going. To wit:
Loads of dark cherry, plum, vanilla, and mocha notes are accentuated by toast, cedar, and boysenberry in this easy to drink wine. Flavors of cherry, blueberry, chocolate, and vanilla are flanked by cranberry, and toasty oak undertones. With a rich mouth feel and long lasting finish this resinous wine is the perfect compliment to any BBQ dish.
So, we stopped into the local market, and I asked for Fess Parker Lot 51 Frontier Red, which they had, and we were promptly on our way.
Given that getting wine took no time, I asked DJ V if we had time to buy a camera, and she so correctly said,
You always have time to buy a camera.
Which we did. I picked it out and fondled it while DJ V took care of incidentals like working out the correct warranty plan. Good team work.
We then hit the road to the House O' Opera Singers. It was also kind of a work reunion, as all but three guests were coworkers of mine. The other three were singing students of the hosts. I was very much looking forward to the introduction of DJ V and MyAdoringPublic.
The Frontier Red was a big hit. We spent most of the time out on the porch with Crispy and Julie and two of the students, but were soon joined by MyAdoringPublic with her SigOther.
After the BBQ came the making of the dessert plates, with DJ V and Annie really getting into their presentations. DJ V took charge of the saucing process, creating aesthetic drizzles on everyone's plate...
As darkness descended, we gathered on the deck to watch a most impressive 30 minute fireworks presentation courtesy of the city of Independence.
We then retired to DJ V's house, because I had a SecretPlan for tomorrow...and also now I can finally answer MyFriendJason's nagging question:
She gives great backrubs. Thanks.
That being said, I was running on very little sleep. Luckily, the morning went smoothly, and nicely, given that three of my employees wanted some personal time with me, which involved walking about, or sitting down for coffee...
DJ V only had to work a half day because of the upcoming holiday, so she showed up at 2 pm to take me out to buy a camera -the logic in that statement is obvious and needs no explanation. We GPS'd a camera store, and upon arrival found that it was closed - well, not closed - it didn't exist anymore. Dang lying technology! We then decided we were starving, and went to what seemed like 30 restaurants before we found one that was A. open and B. serving lunch.
And so it was that I finally got to eat at the Cabin Club where we were treated to white linen table cloths and exposed oak beams, fine dining and trophy wines served in a rustic log cabin by waitresses in pressed, long sleeved white Polo buttondowns and very short black cheerleader skirts. An odd look to be sure, but very Great Northern Hotel, with good pasta. The owls are not what they seem.
DJ V dropped me off at my car, where we ran into JLo and had a little visit, then I went home to clean up. DJ V arrived about an hour later to pick me up for the party we were attending. As fate would have it, one of the wine newsletters I subscribe to had sent me an email notification that afternoon raving about the Best Wine For Barbecues, which is exactly where we were going. To wit:
Loads of dark cherry, plum, vanilla, and mocha notes are accentuated by toast, cedar, and boysenberry in this easy to drink wine. Flavors of cherry, blueberry, chocolate, and vanilla are flanked by cranberry, and toasty oak undertones. With a rich mouth feel and long lasting finish this resinous wine is the perfect compliment to any BBQ dish.
So, we stopped into the local market, and I asked for Fess Parker Lot 51 Frontier Red, which they had, and we were promptly on our way.
Given that getting wine took no time, I asked DJ V if we had time to buy a camera, and she so correctly said,
You always have time to buy a camera.
Which we did. I picked it out and fondled it while DJ V took care of incidentals like working out the correct warranty plan. Good team work.
We then hit the road to the House O' Opera Singers. It was also kind of a work reunion, as all but three guests were coworkers of mine. The other three were singing students of the hosts. I was very much looking forward to the introduction of DJ V and MyAdoringPublic.
The Frontier Red was a big hit. We spent most of the time out on the porch with Crispy and Julie and two of the students, but were soon joined by MyAdoringPublic with her SigOther.
After the BBQ came the making of the dessert plates, with DJ V and Annie really getting into their presentations. DJ V took charge of the saucing process, creating aesthetic drizzles on everyone's plate...
As darkness descended, we gathered on the deck to watch a most impressive 30 minute fireworks presentation courtesy of the city of Independence.
We then retired to DJ V's house, because I had a SecretPlan for tomorrow...and also now I can finally answer MyFriendJason's nagging question:
She gives great backrubs. Thanks.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Come Rain Or Come Shine
Had breakfast with JLo this morning at First Watch. She had the foresight to call ahead so a table was reserved for us - an important thing on a busy weekend morning...then the skies darkened and the rains came down.
Not much else happened - DJ V was away for the weekend, out sun bathing and boating and shopping and all manner of lovely weekend activities since the sun was shining down on her part of the world.
She called me to tell me she would be arriving at my place around midnight, which really wasn't a problem, since I had to get up for work at 2:30 in the morning anyway...
Not much else happened - DJ V was away for the weekend, out sun bathing and boating and shopping and all manner of lovely weekend activities since the sun was shining down on her part of the world.
She called me to tell me she would be arriving at my place around midnight, which really wasn't a problem, since I had to get up for work at 2:30 in the morning anyway...
Saturday, July 01, 2006
If Life Was Orchestrated, It Would Sound Something Like That
It was a bright, sunny wonderful Saturday on the NorthCoast.
A little moment of surrealism - right between the Gap and Banana Republic. Pony rides! But they were really little ponies for really little kids. I would have ridden a pony this morning...
Well, lunch time rolls around, and it seems that at last TheSmokin'Hot HotDogGirl and I have cultivated our relationship to the point where I no longer have to pay for my weekend lunches. It puts me in mind of my hallowed Seattle days, when Cmonkie and MyPersonalBarista Taya would hook me up with all the lattes I could handle...
The shopping center where I work was having fireworks at 10 pm, so the co-manager of the nightcrew and myself made all of the employees go outside behind our store, and we all watched the fireworks for ten minutes. It was really fun to stand out there with everyone, and the pay-off for taking such a small break was immediately recognizable. Everyone felt a deep sense of comraderie, and was in great spirits to tackle the remaining workload of the night.
So, I was driving on home at midnight, listening to a CD compliation of obscure songs that I was missing in digital form that DJ V had kindly collected, and a great, happy, upbeat Am I The Same Girl Swing Out Sister remix came on, just as the skyline of Cleveland came into view - complete with fireworks exploding overhead...
A little moment of surrealism - right between the Gap and Banana Republic. Pony rides! But they were really little ponies for really little kids. I would have ridden a pony this morning...
Well, lunch time rolls around, and it seems that at last TheSmokin'Hot HotDogGirl and I have cultivated our relationship to the point where I no longer have to pay for my weekend lunches. It puts me in mind of my hallowed Seattle days, when Cmonkie and MyPersonalBarista Taya would hook me up with all the lattes I could handle...
The shopping center where I work was having fireworks at 10 pm, so the co-manager of the nightcrew and myself made all of the employees go outside behind our store, and we all watched the fireworks for ten minutes. It was really fun to stand out there with everyone, and the pay-off for taking such a small break was immediately recognizable. Everyone felt a deep sense of comraderie, and was in great spirits to tackle the remaining workload of the night.
So, I was driving on home at midnight, listening to a CD compliation of obscure songs that I was missing in digital form that DJ V had kindly collected, and a great, happy, upbeat Am I The Same Girl Swing Out Sister remix came on, just as the skyline of Cleveland came into view - complete with fireworks exploding overhead...
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