As I’ve mentioned previously, I have lots of time to read during my 3 hours of commuting each day, so I thought I’d share what I’ve read thus far this year.
A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again by David Foster Wallace – This collection of seven essays from Wallace vary from mind candy (the title essay, about going on a cruise) to the challenging (essays about literary theory and the math involved in tennis). I especially enjoyed the title essay and the essay on David Lynch making Lost Highway. Some misses, but mostly hits.
The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid by Bill Bryson – Bryson is one of the funniest authors going today, and this book about growing up in Des Moines, IA solidifies my theory. Highlights include getting his elementary school teacher to lick pee and his cross-country trip to Disney World. Highly recommended.
Made in America by Bill Bryson – Another Bryson book, can you tell I’m a big fan, I’m glad Diana introduced me to him. This book on American etymology is a fascinating read if you are into the history of words. He tackles this in a chronological order and you learn many reasons behind some of the words, place names, and sayings we take for granted today (including the fact that the original writers of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” had, in fact, never actually been to a game). Fun book if you are normally interested in these kinds of things.
Americana by Hampton Sides – The theme of this book concentrates on different groups of people brought together by a love of something. Included in this collection are stories about attending a Private Investigation Academy run by G. Gordon Liddy, a visit to Sturgis and attending a temporary town made up exclusively of Airstream Trailers. Entertaining book.
A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn – I read this book about 10 years ago, but I don’t think it really sunk in back then, I was too interested in myself at the time. Now considered an alternative history classic, it definitely can get you worked up about all of the different conflicts that the United States has gotten into. The chapters on the Vietnam War were especially disheartening, and you can draw direct parallels between what happened 40 years ago and what is happening right now. Not an easy read, but a great read.
IV, A Decade of Curios People and Dangerous Ideas by Chuck Klosterman – Ah Chuck, he can do no wrong in my mind. This is a collection of some of his previous articles and stories for various publications. I especially love it because he puts footnotes throughout to explain what he was thinking when he wrote them. If you are a Chuck fan or just a fan of Pop-Culture in general, pick this up.
The Red Sox Reader edited by Dan Riley – A collection of essays and articles about the Boston Red Sox. I love baseball books and will read most anything. This was interesting, but definitely dated (the book came out shortly after Buckner let it go through his wickets in ’86). Authors include Peter Gammons, Steven King and John Updike.
Absurdistan by Gary Shteyngart – This was a good find, it is about a hip –hop loving son of a Russian/Jewish mafia Don and how he ends up in the middle of a war being conducted primarily to get Haliburton to finance the fledgling country. Great satire and the lead character reminds me of a cross between Ignatius Reilly, Fredo Corleone, and Alex (played by Eugene Hutz) in Everything is Illuminated.
A Crack in the Edge of the World by Simon Winchester – This is a history of the 1906 SF earthquake, plus analysis of other earthquakes that happened in US history and the inevitability of another one happening. Sometimes gets pretty technical, but filled with interesting parts (including the fact that there were earthquakes in Missouri and North Carolina in the early history of our country).
Disturbing the Peace by Vaclav Havel – This was a book length interview with the absurdist playwright who later became the first president of the new Czech Republic. Not a great read, it definitely would’ve helped if I had known a little bit more about Czech history.
Sandy Koufax: A Lefty’s Legacy by Jane Leavy – I always heard that Koufax may have been the best pitcher ever in the Major Leagues, and this book makes a strong case for this argument. The book reveals that Koufax would have rather played basketball, pitched through a ton of pain over the last few years, and was one of the first players to stick to his beliefs (he wouldn’t pitch in the first game of the World Series because it occurred on Rosh Hashanah).
Magical Thinking by Augusten Burroughs – Another collection of memoir stories from Mr. Burroughs. Not as crazy as Running with Scissors, but not as depressing as Dry. Solid book. On a side note, we saw Mr. Burroughs at The Zeitgeist about 2 months ago, just hanging out. That brings my SF celebrity sightings to two (the other being Rob Courdrey from The Daily Show).
McGoorty: A Pool Room Hustler – A biography of a champion billiards player/professional hobo/womanizer from the SF area. Very quick read, I finished it in one day.
Double Duce by Aaron Cometbus – A collection of the famous ‘zine writer’s stories about living in a crap-hole apartment with his messed-up roommates in Berkley. The author, who also was the drummer in Cleveland Bound Death Sentence (which also included members of other MPLS bands Dillinger Four and The Saltines), hand wrote the entire book, which just makes it visually kind of neat.
The Drunken Tourist by Hadrian Santana - Probably the worst book I’ve read this year, the author recounts his fleeing from the law to go over to Europe to do copious amounts of drugs, get laid, and spread the word about some shitty religion he’s really into. The book ends with him going to jail, I hope he’s still there. He just comes across as a jerk with no redeeming qualities.
Managing Ignatius – The real-life story of Lucky Dogs Hot Dog Vendors made popular in A Confederacy of Dunces. The manager lets everyone know about the dysfunctional types of people who would be working these carts and the hijinks they get into. A little disjointed but very funny.
A Cook’s Tour by Anthony Bourdain – Basically a written version of his Travel Channel show “No Reservations”, but equally funny and interesting to read about the quest for the perfect meal. Makes me want to get into the restaurant business for sure.
The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell – The author’s theories behind why something becomes popular or a hit. Very interesting read and reminds me a little bit of Freakonomics, but from an anthropology point of view. Covers everything from Hush Puppies to graffiti, neat book.
Hopefully everyone can find at least one book on here that they hadn’t heard of before and check it out.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
Sometimes Parents Just Don’t Understand
My parents visited us over the weekend, here are some of the highlights:
Thursday 03/22/07
I picked up Ed and Joyce along with their traveling companions, Richard and Roxanne at the SFO airport on Thursday afternoon. After wedging the luggage into my smallish automobile, we were on our way back towards the city, with my mother making gasping noises about my driving the majority of the way. I responded by making fun of her for wearing her San Francisco T-Shirt we had given her for X-mas.
We crossed the Golden Gate Bridge and cruised into Sausalito in Marin County. We enjoyed a nice lunch at a little café and checked out the bay. Next we went up Highway 1 into the base of the Muir Woods. I had planned to take them to a nice lookout that was about ¼ mile off of a trailhead off of the highway, but was foiled by the cops. I had entered a closed section of the highway (road construction) and the officers were not amused at my ambitions to drive along that portion of the road. I pleaded ignorance and went back on my way sans any citations, which was nice.
Once back in the city, we took our visitors to their vacation residence. I had found the top floor of a flat a couple blocks from our place. It was a really nice two bedroom affair that had a working fireplace, a rather large television and stereo system, even laundry and a dishwasher. It kind of made our place look drab by comparison.
That night the six of us went out to dinner to Jimi-san’s Japanese Restaurant. We enjoyed several different appetizers and rolls, and everyone was very game about trying new things. My mom even used chopsticks and was close to mastering them by the end of the evening. Jimi-san hooked us up with free desserts at the end of the meal, he’s the best. The evening was capped off by a drink at the second oldest bar in SF, the Little Shamrock.
Friday 03/23/07
The six of us headed over to Golden Gate Park and went to the Japanese Tea Gardens. It was really beautiful in the gardens, with some excellent water features, bridges, blossoming cherry trees and Zen gardens. After that, we headed across the street to the arboretum and checked out some of the foliage there.
Our zeal for plants satiated, we caught the Muni to the Upper Haight Neighborhood. Mom was amazed that someone was actually driving the train, I’m not sure if she thought it was controlled by robots or something else. We checked out some of the shops and took some pictures at the ever-famous Haight-Ashbury crossing. Mom and Dad picked up some Haight-Ashbury hoodies and then mailed them to themselves so they needn’t tote them around the rest of the day.
We dined at a brew-pub called Magnolia for lunch. My father completed what I’d term “The Big Lebowski”, by tasting every single type of beer available in the establishment by consuming not one but two sampler trays of 2.5 oz. beers. Richard also got the new nickname of “Oysterhead”, named after the Stout that was being served at the Magnolia (Richard’s surname is Stout).
Once lunch was completed we took a bus down to the Mission area and wandered around a bit. It was OK, although Mom thought that the Ice Cream Cart Vendors were fanciful homeless people (very confusing logic from Mom here, too much to get into detail). Around 2:30 we headed over to the Zeitgeist, a killer biker/bike-messenger bar that has a huge backyard with picnic tables. We ordered most of our drinks successfully, although Roxanne’s request for a Malibu/Diet-Coke was rebuffed by the bartender (“I don’t have either one of those” he growled). Roxanne ended up with a margarita on the rocks instead. Eventually, our friends Paul, Dan, Newton and Rich all showed up to enjoy the sunshine and partake in a few drinks. Around 5 o’clock we left to catch a Muni back into our neighborhood. Once the train arrived, we packed on with the rest of the normal Friday commuters.
We met back up with the crew to go out to dinner at PJ’s, an Oyster Bar/Cajun joint in our neighborhood. It was a great meal that was enjoyed by most, with the exception of poor Roxanne. Unfortunately, the two Margaritas at the Zeitgeist had done her in. I didn’t really think about it when she was ordering, but the bartenders there mix a very strong drink, and everything is served in pint glasses there. As a result, Roxanne didn’t eat anything at her and Richard’s 5th year Anniversary Dinner, Diana and I felt terrible about it. After dinner, the group minus Roxanne met up with our friends Rich and Cat at the Dubliner for a nightcap.
Saturday 03/24/07
With Roxanne still out of commission from the Margaritas, the rest of us walked around the west portion of our neighborhood. We showed them all of the various restaurants and stores where we shop for our groceries, the highlight being the Sunset Super Market where we showed them the vats of live fish and buckets of live frogs. A clam even spat water out on Mom, which was funny. We picked up some crazy Japanese candy for our nieces and went back towards their flat.
Roxanne was back up and ready to go by the time we got back, what a champ! We headed to Union Square to catch a cable car ride up to Lombard Street. We walked down “The Crookedest Road” and made our way to North Beach. We had a nice Italian meal and then walked a couple of blocks over to China Town. It’s always amazing to be in Europe one block, then South Asia the next.
We caught a street car over to the piers and checked out the sea lions, then we headed a couple of piers over to queue up for our boat to Alcatraz. The day was rather gray and misty, so we didn’t sit up on the top deck, but still had a neat view for the 15 minute boat ride to the island. Since we were on the night-time tour, we had a free 45 minute audio tour. There were some legitimately creepy parts of the old prison, including the hospital and the hallway where the grenades had blown out pieces of the floor during an uprising. I still can’t believe that people had to actually serve out sentences there, talk about “Hard Time”.
We caught cabs back to our neighborhood and went to New Eritrea, a North African restaurant. Although reluctant at first, even Mom got into the idea of eating everything with our hands and using the flat bread/pancake pieces used for scooping up the various veggies and meats brought to us on a huge platter.
Sunday 03/25/07
We went over to the flat to pick up the group and then made our way to Darla’s for breakfast and Bloody Marys. We were delighted to be waited upon by Darla herself and had a delicious meal. After breakfast, we packed up the luggage in our car so they could be checked out on time, then hopped the Muni and went to Ocean Beach. The tide was really low that morning, so everyone had a good time picking up shells and sand dollars and watching the plovers dig up crabs.
We eventually made it back to our place and let Josie lick everyone until it was time to head off to the airport. Overall it was a successful visit that left very few casualties.
Thursday 03/22/07
I picked up Ed and Joyce along with their traveling companions, Richard and Roxanne at the SFO airport on Thursday afternoon. After wedging the luggage into my smallish automobile, we were on our way back towards the city, with my mother making gasping noises about my driving the majority of the way. I responded by making fun of her for wearing her San Francisco T-Shirt we had given her for X-mas.
We crossed the Golden Gate Bridge and cruised into Sausalito in Marin County. We enjoyed a nice lunch at a little café and checked out the bay. Next we went up Highway 1 into the base of the Muir Woods. I had planned to take them to a nice lookout that was about ¼ mile off of a trailhead off of the highway, but was foiled by the cops. I had entered a closed section of the highway (road construction) and the officers were not amused at my ambitions to drive along that portion of the road. I pleaded ignorance and went back on my way sans any citations, which was nice.
Once back in the city, we took our visitors to their vacation residence. I had found the top floor of a flat a couple blocks from our place. It was a really nice two bedroom affair that had a working fireplace, a rather large television and stereo system, even laundry and a dishwasher. It kind of made our place look drab by comparison.
That night the six of us went out to dinner to Jimi-san’s Japanese Restaurant. We enjoyed several different appetizers and rolls, and everyone was very game about trying new things. My mom even used chopsticks and was close to mastering them by the end of the evening. Jimi-san hooked us up with free desserts at the end of the meal, he’s the best. The evening was capped off by a drink at the second oldest bar in SF, the Little Shamrock.
Friday 03/23/07
The six of us headed over to Golden Gate Park and went to the Japanese Tea Gardens. It was really beautiful in the gardens, with some excellent water features, bridges, blossoming cherry trees and Zen gardens. After that, we headed across the street to the arboretum and checked out some of the foliage there.
Our zeal for plants satiated, we caught the Muni to the Upper Haight Neighborhood. Mom was amazed that someone was actually driving the train, I’m not sure if she thought it was controlled by robots or something else. We checked out some of the shops and took some pictures at the ever-famous Haight-Ashbury crossing. Mom and Dad picked up some Haight-Ashbury hoodies and then mailed them to themselves so they needn’t tote them around the rest of the day.
We dined at a brew-pub called Magnolia for lunch. My father completed what I’d term “The Big Lebowski”, by tasting every single type of beer available in the establishment by consuming not one but two sampler trays of 2.5 oz. beers. Richard also got the new nickname of “Oysterhead”, named after the Stout that was being served at the Magnolia (Richard’s surname is Stout).
Once lunch was completed we took a bus down to the Mission area and wandered around a bit. It was OK, although Mom thought that the Ice Cream Cart Vendors were fanciful homeless people (very confusing logic from Mom here, too much to get into detail). Around 2:30 we headed over to the Zeitgeist, a killer biker/bike-messenger bar that has a huge backyard with picnic tables. We ordered most of our drinks successfully, although Roxanne’s request for a Malibu/Diet-Coke was rebuffed by the bartender (“I don’t have either one of those” he growled). Roxanne ended up with a margarita on the rocks instead. Eventually, our friends Paul, Dan, Newton and Rich all showed up to enjoy the sunshine and partake in a few drinks. Around 5 o’clock we left to catch a Muni back into our neighborhood. Once the train arrived, we packed on with the rest of the normal Friday commuters.
We met back up with the crew to go out to dinner at PJ’s, an Oyster Bar/Cajun joint in our neighborhood. It was a great meal that was enjoyed by most, with the exception of poor Roxanne. Unfortunately, the two Margaritas at the Zeitgeist had done her in. I didn’t really think about it when she was ordering, but the bartenders there mix a very strong drink, and everything is served in pint glasses there. As a result, Roxanne didn’t eat anything at her and Richard’s 5th year Anniversary Dinner, Diana and I felt terrible about it. After dinner, the group minus Roxanne met up with our friends Rich and Cat at the Dubliner for a nightcap.
Saturday 03/24/07
With Roxanne still out of commission from the Margaritas, the rest of us walked around the west portion of our neighborhood. We showed them all of the various restaurants and stores where we shop for our groceries, the highlight being the Sunset Super Market where we showed them the vats of live fish and buckets of live frogs. A clam even spat water out on Mom, which was funny. We picked up some crazy Japanese candy for our nieces and went back towards their flat.
Roxanne was back up and ready to go by the time we got back, what a champ! We headed to Union Square to catch a cable car ride up to Lombard Street. We walked down “The Crookedest Road” and made our way to North Beach. We had a nice Italian meal and then walked a couple of blocks over to China Town. It’s always amazing to be in Europe one block, then South Asia the next.
We caught a street car over to the piers and checked out the sea lions, then we headed a couple of piers over to queue up for our boat to Alcatraz. The day was rather gray and misty, so we didn’t sit up on the top deck, but still had a neat view for the 15 minute boat ride to the island. Since we were on the night-time tour, we had a free 45 minute audio tour. There were some legitimately creepy parts of the old prison, including the hospital and the hallway where the grenades had blown out pieces of the floor during an uprising. I still can’t believe that people had to actually serve out sentences there, talk about “Hard Time”.
We caught cabs back to our neighborhood and went to New Eritrea, a North African restaurant. Although reluctant at first, even Mom got into the idea of eating everything with our hands and using the flat bread/pancake pieces used for scooping up the various veggies and meats brought to us on a huge platter.
Sunday 03/25/07
We went over to the flat to pick up the group and then made our way to Darla’s for breakfast and Bloody Marys. We were delighted to be waited upon by Darla herself and had a delicious meal. After breakfast, we packed up the luggage in our car so they could be checked out on time, then hopped the Muni and went to Ocean Beach. The tide was really low that morning, so everyone had a good time picking up shells and sand dollars and watching the plovers dig up crabs.
We eventually made it back to our place and let Josie lick everyone until it was time to head off to the airport. Overall it was a successful visit that left very few casualties.
Monday, March 12, 2007
I Have a Meeting with “The Bobs”
Last week I rolled into work on a Monday morning to discover a 8.5 x 11 announcement sitting on my desk. It turned out we were having a Casual Week. Since I didn’t get the handout the week previous, I was not able to inflict upon my co-workers one of my numerous Hawaiian shirts. Bummer.
Tuesday was Retro or Plaid Day. I wore a nice long-sleeved number that had a feeling of the 70’s about it. There were numerous tie-dye shirts abound, including a couple that were probably a couple of sizes too small for the individuals who chose to wear them.
Wednesday was Denim Day. People were very excited to wear their blue jeans to work. I showed my appreciation by wearing my jet-black Carhardt’s.
Thursday was Americana Day. I did not partake in this particular dress-up day. There was an elderly gentleman that had a great stars and bars shirt that would have made any Texan proud.
Friday was Sports Day. I happily wore my TC style Twins cap all day, mostly twisted off to the side or backwards. There were lots of A’s uniforms and caps that day, and a few NASCAR fan(atics) showed their awesome love of corporate logos.
What was the occasion for this celebration? I have no idea. The sheet said it was a “Casual for a Cause Week”. There were no sign-up sheets for donations, no emails about helping out the elderly, no one coming around trying to support the arts, nothing. I did get a free lunch out of it on Wednesday, which was nice.
Take care,
jeremy
Tuesday was Retro or Plaid Day. I wore a nice long-sleeved number that had a feeling of the 70’s about it. There were numerous tie-dye shirts abound, including a couple that were probably a couple of sizes too small for the individuals who chose to wear them.
Wednesday was Denim Day. People were very excited to wear their blue jeans to work. I showed my appreciation by wearing my jet-black Carhardt’s.
Thursday was Americana Day. I did not partake in this particular dress-up day. There was an elderly gentleman that had a great stars and bars shirt that would have made any Texan proud.
Friday was Sports Day. I happily wore my TC style Twins cap all day, mostly twisted off to the side or backwards. There were lots of A’s uniforms and caps that day, and a few NASCAR fan(atics) showed their awesome love of corporate logos.
What was the occasion for this celebration? I have no idea. The sheet said it was a “Casual for a Cause Week”. There were no sign-up sheets for donations, no emails about helping out the elderly, no one coming around trying to support the arts, nothing. I did get a free lunch out of it on Wednesday, which was nice.
Take care,
jeremy
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Good God, This is Going to be Awful
I arrived home last week to find a package from someplace in the state of Washington. My friend Doug just moved there to take a Professor job, but the name on the package said “Arthur Blumpkins”, or something of that ilk. Not knowing a Mr. Blumpkins, I was curious as to what was inside.
I tear open the package and find a catalog, a travel pack of facial tissue with a Hula Girl on it, and two boxes of mints. The mints, however, are Uncle Oinker’s Savory Bacon Mints. I check out the delivery paper and in the comments it simply states, “Mmm, Bacon”. Immediately, I knew this was my X-mas present from Ken.
I am now going to attempt to taste these mints, and give you my running commentary as I go. Ugh.
The 0.7 oz metal tin is adorned with whom I can only assume is Uncle Oinker himself. He looks slightly surprised, and is wearing a 50’s style fishing hat. Looks pretty good for a pig.
The backside of the tin has some delicious looking bacon in the background. Let’s see here, the Ingredient Statement is as follows: DEXTROSE, CORN SYRUP, MAGNESIUM STEARATE, BACON & MINT FLAVORS, ACESULFAME POTASSIUM, MALTODEXTRIN. This is apparently made in China, which makes sense, I suppose. I can also call a number to get the Nutritional Information. I’d rather not.
I am tearing off the protective plastic wrap. Ahhhh! An odor of bacon-like substance has permeated the room. It sort of smells like the fetal pigs we dissected in Biology class. I don’t see formaldehyde on the ingredient list. This is not going to be good.
I’m having a hard time opening this. It appears that there is a fine film of bacon grease on the tin. It’s either that or my body is going into self-defense mode and making me sweat through my fingers so as to not be able to open the tin and consume what is inside.
OK, got it open. It’s full of about 50 little white “mints”. The smell is getting worse.
ARRRRGH! It started off minty, but now is giving a pervasive rancid bacon flavor mixed with peppermint. This is terrible. I really think that Magnesium Stearate is a secret code word for formaldehyde. What the hell am I gonna do with two boxes of these things?
Do I dare chew it? I don’t want to have it in my mouth much longer, but will chewing it make it worse? I’m so conflicted.
Oh dear God! I shouldn’t have chewed it. Now I have formaldehyde powder stuck in my teeth.
I just downed half a bottle of Grain Belt to see if it helped. It didn’t.
Josie is whining. Maybe I should see if she wants one.
She spit it out at first, but now she is smelling around looking for more. Maybe they’ll be a doggie version of after-dinner mints.
Damn it! I just belched and it tasted like them. This is going to be a long night.
I feel as if I’m losing vision in my right eye. I better go seek medical treatment.
Thanks for the gift Ken.
I tear open the package and find a catalog, a travel pack of facial tissue with a Hula Girl on it, and two boxes of mints. The mints, however, are Uncle Oinker’s Savory Bacon Mints. I check out the delivery paper and in the comments it simply states, “Mmm, Bacon”. Immediately, I knew this was my X-mas present from Ken.
I am now going to attempt to taste these mints, and give you my running commentary as I go. Ugh.
The 0.7 oz metal tin is adorned with whom I can only assume is Uncle Oinker himself. He looks slightly surprised, and is wearing a 50’s style fishing hat. Looks pretty good for a pig.
The backside of the tin has some delicious looking bacon in the background. Let’s see here, the Ingredient Statement is as follows: DEXTROSE, CORN SYRUP, MAGNESIUM STEARATE, BACON & MINT FLAVORS, ACESULFAME POTASSIUM, MALTODEXTRIN. This is apparently made in China, which makes sense, I suppose. I can also call a number to get the Nutritional Information. I’d rather not.
I am tearing off the protective plastic wrap. Ahhhh! An odor of bacon-like substance has permeated the room. It sort of smells like the fetal pigs we dissected in Biology class. I don’t see formaldehyde on the ingredient list. This is not going to be good.
I’m having a hard time opening this. It appears that there is a fine film of bacon grease on the tin. It’s either that or my body is going into self-defense mode and making me sweat through my fingers so as to not be able to open the tin and consume what is inside.
OK, got it open. It’s full of about 50 little white “mints”. The smell is getting worse.
ARRRRGH! It started off minty, but now is giving a pervasive rancid bacon flavor mixed with peppermint. This is terrible. I really think that Magnesium Stearate is a secret code word for formaldehyde. What the hell am I gonna do with two boxes of these things?
Do I dare chew it? I don’t want to have it in my mouth much longer, but will chewing it make it worse? I’m so conflicted.
Oh dear God! I shouldn’t have chewed it. Now I have formaldehyde powder stuck in my teeth.
I just downed half a bottle of Grain Belt to see if it helped. It didn’t.
Josie is whining. Maybe I should see if she wants one.
She spit it out at first, but now she is smelling around looking for more. Maybe they’ll be a doggie version of after-dinner mints.
Damn it! I just belched and it tasted like them. This is going to be a long night.
I feel as if I’m losing vision in my right eye. I better go seek medical treatment.
Thanks for the gift Ken.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
I Sell Propane and Propane Accessories
My buddy Paul bought a deep-fryer for the turkeys he made for Thanksgiving and Super Bowl, and about a month ago we came up with the idea to have a deep-fry party. The King of the Hill episode in which Bill and Boomhauer decided that they would only deep fry foods since the day they had purchased one inspired the party. Saturday was the day that all arteries within an 8 block radius were clogged, all the local high school kids broke out with severe acne just from walking by the party, and some truly disturbing (yet delicious) items were thrown into a vat of canola oil pre-heated to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
There were only two rules to the party; 1) you could only eat deep-fried food and 2) if you brought it to deep-fry it, you had to at least try it. Following is a list of everything I ate at the deep fry party, complete with commentary and rankings (all rankings based out of number of arteries clogged out of 10):
Battered Jalapeno Poppers (9) – The first entry into the bubbling oil was a masterpiece. Fresh jalapeno peppers opened and stuffed with cream cheese, Monterey Jack cheese, Cajun seasoning, and the key ingredient, bacon. These things were a great kickoff to the party. It only gets a 9 out of 10 because we hadn’t yet figured out that we needed to dip the deep fried items in milk/eggs, flour, then the batter. As a result, most of the batter fell off of the first couple of items.
Battered Sliced Dill Pickles (3) – Not very good due to the fact that the batter pretty much fell off of these right away. All that was left was a soggy, hot pickle. This was the one thing we brought that bombed.
Battered White Button Mushrooms (7) – Deep-fried mushrooms are one of my favorite appetizers, and this was one of the things that we brought. The batter stuck to this pretty well, but we had placed it in the second of the two deep-fryers at the party. The problem was the oil was nearly 500 degrees, so they got brown very fast.
Battered Zucchini (7) – Again, one of our contributions, this had a great texture, and held up very well. We cut it into thin slices which was perfect, but we had thrown it in as the same time as the mushrooms, so too brown, too quick.
Battered Catfish (9) – Catfish, in my opinion, is only truly great when fried. This was no exception. Flavorful, flaky, and fantastic.
Battered Shrimp (6) – Pretty good, but not as good as I’d hoped for. A little bland.
Sweet-Battered Ice Cream Bon-Bons (6) – This would have been a lot better had at not been for the execution. We used Mochi, which are Japanese ice cream bon-bons. Mochi have a thicker shell than a normal bon-bon, which worked out well for the deep-fry process. The problem was that these stuck to the bottom of the basket. When we removed the bon-bons, the bottoms would rip out, leaving a runny ice cream/batter mess. Tasted fantastic, messy as all hell.
Battered Crawfish Tails (4) – I expected these to be better as well, but much like the shrimp, they were quite bland. Combined with the chewy texture, I was rather bummed out that this didn’t work out.
Perogi (9) – These were not battered, but are an Eastern European dumpling filled with mashed potatoes. Outstanding!
Battered Avocado (8) – This was peeled and halved, and was really yummy. Ed took the other half of the avocado and wrapped it in bacon. I did not try that one, however.
Bacon (7) – Receives a higher score, because hey, it’s bacon. Didn’t really taste any better or worse than normal bacon though.
Battered Sage Leaves (5) – Interesting theory, but not the greatest. Basically tasted like Thanksgiving stuffing.
Battered Black Olives (5) – Tasted like warm olives, and some extra oil got stuck in the hole. Nothing too great.
Pizza (5) – Good concept from Ed, but just didn’t translate well. We should have tried a Hot Pocket or something instead.
Battered Big Mac (10) – Again from Ed, this was out of sight! People were pretending they were not interested or grossed out, but those people deep down in their hearts know that this kicked major booty. I’m sure we were not the first people to batter and deep-fry a Big Mac, but I want to be sure it is not my last. The bun stayed good and warm, but not soggy. The cheese got melted and the special sauce seemed to achieve maximum tang. Think if I bribe my local joint they’ll do one for me?
So I tried about 15 different deep-fried foods, and as of 27 hours later, no signs of a heart stoppage. Yet.
Take care,
jeremy
There were only two rules to the party; 1) you could only eat deep-fried food and 2) if you brought it to deep-fry it, you had to at least try it. Following is a list of everything I ate at the deep fry party, complete with commentary and rankings (all rankings based out of number of arteries clogged out of 10):
Battered Jalapeno Poppers (9) – The first entry into the bubbling oil was a masterpiece. Fresh jalapeno peppers opened and stuffed with cream cheese, Monterey Jack cheese, Cajun seasoning, and the key ingredient, bacon. These things were a great kickoff to the party. It only gets a 9 out of 10 because we hadn’t yet figured out that we needed to dip the deep fried items in milk/eggs, flour, then the batter. As a result, most of the batter fell off of the first couple of items.
Battered Sliced Dill Pickles (3) – Not very good due to the fact that the batter pretty much fell off of these right away. All that was left was a soggy, hot pickle. This was the one thing we brought that bombed.
Battered White Button Mushrooms (7) – Deep-fried mushrooms are one of my favorite appetizers, and this was one of the things that we brought. The batter stuck to this pretty well, but we had placed it in the second of the two deep-fryers at the party. The problem was the oil was nearly 500 degrees, so they got brown very fast.
Battered Zucchini (7) – Again, one of our contributions, this had a great texture, and held up very well. We cut it into thin slices which was perfect, but we had thrown it in as the same time as the mushrooms, so too brown, too quick.
Battered Catfish (9) – Catfish, in my opinion, is only truly great when fried. This was no exception. Flavorful, flaky, and fantastic.
Battered Shrimp (6) – Pretty good, but not as good as I’d hoped for. A little bland.
Sweet-Battered Ice Cream Bon-Bons (6) – This would have been a lot better had at not been for the execution. We used Mochi, which are Japanese ice cream bon-bons. Mochi have a thicker shell than a normal bon-bon, which worked out well for the deep-fry process. The problem was that these stuck to the bottom of the basket. When we removed the bon-bons, the bottoms would rip out, leaving a runny ice cream/batter mess. Tasted fantastic, messy as all hell.
Battered Crawfish Tails (4) – I expected these to be better as well, but much like the shrimp, they were quite bland. Combined with the chewy texture, I was rather bummed out that this didn’t work out.
Perogi (9) – These were not battered, but are an Eastern European dumpling filled with mashed potatoes. Outstanding!
Battered Avocado (8) – This was peeled and halved, and was really yummy. Ed took the other half of the avocado and wrapped it in bacon. I did not try that one, however.
Bacon (7) – Receives a higher score, because hey, it’s bacon. Didn’t really taste any better or worse than normal bacon though.
Battered Sage Leaves (5) – Interesting theory, but not the greatest. Basically tasted like Thanksgiving stuffing.
Battered Black Olives (5) – Tasted like warm olives, and some extra oil got stuck in the hole. Nothing too great.
Pizza (5) – Good concept from Ed, but just didn’t translate well. We should have tried a Hot Pocket or something instead.
Battered Big Mac (10) – Again from Ed, this was out of sight! People were pretending they were not interested or grossed out, but those people deep down in their hearts know that this kicked major booty. I’m sure we were not the first people to batter and deep-fry a Big Mac, but I want to be sure it is not my last. The bun stayed good and warm, but not soggy. The cheese got melted and the special sauce seemed to achieve maximum tang. Think if I bribe my local joint they’ll do one for me?
So I tried about 15 different deep-fried foods, and as of 27 hours later, no signs of a heart stoppage. Yet.
Take care,
jeremy
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
You Just Spray the Area
On Friday night, I ended up at a party that seems like it could have been lifted from a late 90’s movie (think Go, or something of that ilk).
The night started innocently enough, I picked up some Newcastle and went over to Toby’s. Toby, his roommate Scott, another friend AJ, and I had a couple of drinks and listened to some tunes.
I left there around 9 to go over to Yancy’s pub to meet up with my friends JR, Doug and Cat. Toby and AJ swung over after a while and the six of us hung out and had a few drinks. JR, Doug and Cat left to go to dinner, so the rest of us decided to go to a party that Toby had gotten invited to.
The party was being held at a Tattoo parlor named One Shot Tattoo just down the road. We ran into Toby’s friend Ryan who was leaving the party to go get more beer, so we went with him to pick up some as well. Ryan’s girlfriend is an artist at the parlor, and he was already pretty messed up, so I knew it was going to be an interesting experience.
We roll into the party to find it in full swing. Most everyone, guys and girls, were wearing fake mustaches. Even the Pit-Bull, Precious, was wearing one on her rump. I later found out that Precious was an adopted dog who ended up at the shelter after being shot by the cops during a raid. Nice dog, though.
There were two categories of party attendees. The first subset were the heavily inked, punk rock/rockabilly types. The second group consisted of hard-core gangsters. In striking up a conversation with a guy named Joe, within 30 seconds he let me know that I could get whatever I would need from him, including numerous “Pharmaceuticals” or any weaponry that I’d need. I professed to not really needing a “piece”, but he was quite a salesman. Even though I did not purchase anything, he made sure to write down his name and phone number in case I changed my mind. So now I have a gun guy.
Later, Doug, JR and Rich showed up at the party after dinner. As they walked in I was on my knees playing C-Lo on the floor for 5 bucks a roll. I ended up breaking even.
The occasion for the party was a going-away type of thing for an artist named Sky. It was very difficult to maintain any sense of a normal conversation about his impending move to Boston while there were two girls making out not more than five feet from us. Very distracting.
We finally said goodbye to our new friends around 1:30, and I made it home and into bed by 2:30. I don’t think I’m gonna call Joe, but if anybody needs something, I’ve now got a guy.
Take Care.
The night started innocently enough, I picked up some Newcastle and went over to Toby’s. Toby, his roommate Scott, another friend AJ, and I had a couple of drinks and listened to some tunes.
I left there around 9 to go over to Yancy’s pub to meet up with my friends JR, Doug and Cat. Toby and AJ swung over after a while and the six of us hung out and had a few drinks. JR, Doug and Cat left to go to dinner, so the rest of us decided to go to a party that Toby had gotten invited to.
The party was being held at a Tattoo parlor named One Shot Tattoo just down the road. We ran into Toby’s friend Ryan who was leaving the party to go get more beer, so we went with him to pick up some as well. Ryan’s girlfriend is an artist at the parlor, and he was already pretty messed up, so I knew it was going to be an interesting experience.
We roll into the party to find it in full swing. Most everyone, guys and girls, were wearing fake mustaches. Even the Pit-Bull, Precious, was wearing one on her rump. I later found out that Precious was an adopted dog who ended up at the shelter after being shot by the cops during a raid. Nice dog, though.
There were two categories of party attendees. The first subset were the heavily inked, punk rock/rockabilly types. The second group consisted of hard-core gangsters. In striking up a conversation with a guy named Joe, within 30 seconds he let me know that I could get whatever I would need from him, including numerous “Pharmaceuticals” or any weaponry that I’d need. I professed to not really needing a “piece”, but he was quite a salesman. Even though I did not purchase anything, he made sure to write down his name and phone number in case I changed my mind. So now I have a gun guy.
Later, Doug, JR and Rich showed up at the party after dinner. As they walked in I was on my knees playing C-Lo on the floor for 5 bucks a roll. I ended up breaking even.
The occasion for the party was a going-away type of thing for an artist named Sky. It was very difficult to maintain any sense of a normal conversation about his impending move to Boston while there were two girls making out not more than five feet from us. Very distracting.
We finally said goodbye to our new friends around 1:30, and I made it home and into bed by 2:30. I don’t think I’m gonna call Joe, but if anybody needs something, I’ve now got a guy.
Take Care.
Friday, February 9, 2007
I Have a Weird Job
Yesterday, I had to eat about a dozen different kinds of organic baby food. I have a weird job.
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Thank You, Tony Dungy
The Super Bowl is my fifth favorite holiday (in order: St. Patrick’s Day, Thanksgiving, Bock Fest, Arbor Day, Super Bowl). My first Super Bowl Sunday in California was an upgrade over the only other time I’ve watched the game outside of MN (for that one I was in a hotel room in Cedar Rapids, IA eating crummy take-out Chinese food by myself).
Diana and myself walked over to the Big Blue House on a beautiful, sunny afternoon. Our friend Paul knows the people at the Big Blue House through one of his high school friends, and they are known for throwing a pretty killer party, this one was no different.
Upon arriving, we checked out the Hawaiian pork that our friend Tracie had slaved over for about 15 hours. She had grown up in Hawaii and got the recipe from her mother (A boneless pork butt [not actually from the rump of the hog] slathered in Hawaiian salt and wrapped in tea leaves and banana leaves). She went so far as to buy an electric smoker off of Craigslist to make the 12 pound piece of meat she had purchased. Tracie spent the night at the Big Blue House so she could start the smoker at Midnight, and got up every three hours or so to add more soaked wood chips. That’s some real dedication, right there.
I set to work on making a numbers board for the party, and spent most of the pre-game badgering people to get their names on the board and collecting money for the pot. I even missed the opening kickoff return for touchdown as I was just finishing up getting it taken care of.
I quickly grabbed a plateful of food (pulled Hawaiian pork with sauce, some deep-fried turkey, chicken wings, stuffed mushrooms, chips and guacamole) and headed to one of the three rooms that had televisions set up. The room I was in wasn’t connected to the satellite that the TV in the adjoining room was. As a result, the rabbit-ears on our TV would have the game action about five seconds before the TV in the next room did. It was a great source of amusement the whole game to hear the roars in our room go up during a big play, and then wait for the room next to us follow with a similar reaction.
When I mean roar, I literally mean it. The best estimation was that there was 100 people at the party at any one time, and a total of about 125 showed up, and everybody brought food, beer, or both to share. We made some new friends and had a grand old time.
I need to thank Tony Dungy for not going for the field goal late in the game, as a result my number hit (9 Colts, 7 Bears) on the final and I was up $80. The people at the party quickly accused me of fixing the board, and I reminded them that I would have gone with 7-0 or 7-3 rather than 7-9 if I was truly trying to cheat.
The winnings were spent last night on flesh and cigars. Thanks again, Mr. Dungy.
Diana and myself walked over to the Big Blue House on a beautiful, sunny afternoon. Our friend Paul knows the people at the Big Blue House through one of his high school friends, and they are known for throwing a pretty killer party, this one was no different.
Upon arriving, we checked out the Hawaiian pork that our friend Tracie had slaved over for about 15 hours. She had grown up in Hawaii and got the recipe from her mother (A boneless pork butt [not actually from the rump of the hog] slathered in Hawaiian salt and wrapped in tea leaves and banana leaves). She went so far as to buy an electric smoker off of Craigslist to make the 12 pound piece of meat she had purchased. Tracie spent the night at the Big Blue House so she could start the smoker at Midnight, and got up every three hours or so to add more soaked wood chips. That’s some real dedication, right there.
I set to work on making a numbers board for the party, and spent most of the pre-game badgering people to get their names on the board and collecting money for the pot. I even missed the opening kickoff return for touchdown as I was just finishing up getting it taken care of.
I quickly grabbed a plateful of food (pulled Hawaiian pork with sauce, some deep-fried turkey, chicken wings, stuffed mushrooms, chips and guacamole) and headed to one of the three rooms that had televisions set up. The room I was in wasn’t connected to the satellite that the TV in the adjoining room was. As a result, the rabbit-ears on our TV would have the game action about five seconds before the TV in the next room did. It was a great source of amusement the whole game to hear the roars in our room go up during a big play, and then wait for the room next to us follow with a similar reaction.
When I mean roar, I literally mean it. The best estimation was that there was 100 people at the party at any one time, and a total of about 125 showed up, and everybody brought food, beer, or both to share. We made some new friends and had a grand old time.
I need to thank Tony Dungy for not going for the field goal late in the game, as a result my number hit (9 Colts, 7 Bears) on the final and I was up $80. The people at the party quickly accused me of fixing the board, and I reminded them that I would have gone with 7-0 or 7-3 rather than 7-9 if I was truly trying to cheat.
The winnings were spent last night on flesh and cigars. Thanks again, Mr. Dungy.
Thursday, February 1, 2007
WWVVD? (What Would Vincent Vega Do?)
Good grief am I tired. That’s usually a sign of a good night, and last night was no exception.
One of the first people I met out here was Toby. He wandered by while I was at one of my local pubs (The Mucky Duck) watching the Vikings on the HD Flatscreen. He asked if I was from MN, I responded in the affirmative, then he asked, “Do you know this shi**y band called Dillinger Four?” Now, those that know me would know that I could consider them Fightin’ Words. He was obviously joking, however, and we got to talking. It turns out he runs his own record label (Red Scare Records) and I owned a couple of albums off of his label (The Falcon, which has members of The Lawrence Arms and Alkaline Trio). He had started the label less than a couple of years ago and had earlier in the year had quit his job at Fat Wreck Chords. Fat Wreck (run by Fat Mike of NOFX) supplied numerous albums that were, and still are, a cornerstone of the music that I enjoy to this day. Toby and I instantly hit it off, to say the least.
Last night Toby was able to get me in to the second of three NOFX shows playing at Slim’s. The three night extravaganza is their homecoming from their mini-tour that they’ve been on, and I was very grateful that Toby was able to pull some strings and get me into a sold-out, small-size venue. Toby, however, fully exceeded anything that I expected when he produced not only tickets, but all-access wrist bands to go back stage and see the show from a less dense roped off area. Plus they had a couple of kegs of Pabst in the back alley that was gratis to anyone wearing the wrist band, I owe Toby a couple of drinks, don’t you think?
We arrived a bit late so we missed the first band, but the second band was Strike Anywhere, an anthemic, melodic hardcore band from Richmond, VA that is on Fat Wreck’s roster. They were really good, so good, in fact that I picked up two of their albums after the show.
The whole time we are in the all-access area, Toby is introducing me to various friends of his from Fat Wreck, local musicians, etc. I received a tap on the shoulder after Strike Anywhere’s set and figured Toby wanted me to meet another one of his ex-coworkers. Turning around, I realized that it was not one of his ex-coworkers, but his ex-boss. Toby introduces me to Fat Mike and we make some non-committal small talk while Mike signs a couple of kid’s shirts. Then Mike tells me a story of what had happened to him earlier that morning.
Turns out that Mike had met a super-fan from MPLS the night before and had accepted this fan’s offer to go golfing at a super exclusive golf course in the city. The guy stressed that he needed Mike and his partner to be on their best behavior (dressing nicely, [no plaid pants], easy on the drink, no ditching the carts in sand traps, etc.). Mike shows up at the course and meets up with the fan at about 8 AM. The fan appeared to be a little shaky and twitchy, Mike wrote it off as an all-night bender and was excited to go hit the links. Then, on the second hole, the fan collapses. Turns out the guy OD’d on liquid Valium and went down right in the tee box. Ambulances and fire trucks show up, and they plunge the big needle of adrenaline right into the guy’s chest, right there on the course.
After the guy had been taken to the hospital, Mike and his playing partner did what any self-respected golfer would do when on a golf course Mecca. They played out the rest of their round.
After the story I wished Mike well on his show coming up as he went backstage to prepare, I totally forgot to tell him “Hi” from Diana, whoops. Toby and I headed out to the alley to get a Pabst and talk with some other locals in “the scene”, we even chatted up Matt Smith, the guitarist from Strike Anywhere, for a little bit. One of the best parts of having the wrist band, however, is the clean, no-line bathroom. Can’t beat that with a stick.
NOFX came on and played for a little over an hour, mixing in older and newer songs quite well and had the usual hilarious stage banter. The sound was great, the show was great, and they were done a little bit before 12:30 AM.
After the show Toby, Chris from The Nothingtons and I went over to a bar a little over a block away. The Eagle is a motorcycle, bear, leather-daddy bar that a lot of the bands that play at Slim’s go to. I can see why as the place was really cool. It had a huge outdoor area with trees and fire pits and just a really cool look about it. The bartender even gave us some killer Boston Crème Cake that was leftover from an earlier party. I had a Beck’s with the kids and then hailed a cab, getting home at 2 AM. I got up for work this morning at 5. Good grief am I tired.
Take care.
jeremy
One of the first people I met out here was Toby. He wandered by while I was at one of my local pubs (The Mucky Duck) watching the Vikings on the HD Flatscreen. He asked if I was from MN, I responded in the affirmative, then he asked, “Do you know this shi**y band called Dillinger Four?” Now, those that know me would know that I could consider them Fightin’ Words. He was obviously joking, however, and we got to talking. It turns out he runs his own record label (Red Scare Records) and I owned a couple of albums off of his label (The Falcon, which has members of The Lawrence Arms and Alkaline Trio). He had started the label less than a couple of years ago and had earlier in the year had quit his job at Fat Wreck Chords. Fat Wreck (run by Fat Mike of NOFX) supplied numerous albums that were, and still are, a cornerstone of the music that I enjoy to this day. Toby and I instantly hit it off, to say the least.
Last night Toby was able to get me in to the second of three NOFX shows playing at Slim’s. The three night extravaganza is their homecoming from their mini-tour that they’ve been on, and I was very grateful that Toby was able to pull some strings and get me into a sold-out, small-size venue. Toby, however, fully exceeded anything that I expected when he produced not only tickets, but all-access wrist bands to go back stage and see the show from a less dense roped off area. Plus they had a couple of kegs of Pabst in the back alley that was gratis to anyone wearing the wrist band, I owe Toby a couple of drinks, don’t you think?
We arrived a bit late so we missed the first band, but the second band was Strike Anywhere, an anthemic, melodic hardcore band from Richmond, VA that is on Fat Wreck’s roster. They were really good, so good, in fact that I picked up two of their albums after the show.
The whole time we are in the all-access area, Toby is introducing me to various friends of his from Fat Wreck, local musicians, etc. I received a tap on the shoulder after Strike Anywhere’s set and figured Toby wanted me to meet another one of his ex-coworkers. Turning around, I realized that it was not one of his ex-coworkers, but his ex-boss. Toby introduces me to Fat Mike and we make some non-committal small talk while Mike signs a couple of kid’s shirts. Then Mike tells me a story of what had happened to him earlier that morning.
Turns out that Mike had met a super-fan from MPLS the night before and had accepted this fan’s offer to go golfing at a super exclusive golf course in the city. The guy stressed that he needed Mike and his partner to be on their best behavior (dressing nicely, [no plaid pants], easy on the drink, no ditching the carts in sand traps, etc.). Mike shows up at the course and meets up with the fan at about 8 AM. The fan appeared to be a little shaky and twitchy, Mike wrote it off as an all-night bender and was excited to go hit the links. Then, on the second hole, the fan collapses. Turns out the guy OD’d on liquid Valium and went down right in the tee box. Ambulances and fire trucks show up, and they plunge the big needle of adrenaline right into the guy’s chest, right there on the course.
After the guy had been taken to the hospital, Mike and his playing partner did what any self-respected golfer would do when on a golf course Mecca. They played out the rest of their round.
After the story I wished Mike well on his show coming up as he went backstage to prepare, I totally forgot to tell him “Hi” from Diana, whoops. Toby and I headed out to the alley to get a Pabst and talk with some other locals in “the scene”, we even chatted up Matt Smith, the guitarist from Strike Anywhere, for a little bit. One of the best parts of having the wrist band, however, is the clean, no-line bathroom. Can’t beat that with a stick.
NOFX came on and played for a little over an hour, mixing in older and newer songs quite well and had the usual hilarious stage banter. The sound was great, the show was great, and they were done a little bit before 12:30 AM.
After the show Toby, Chris from The Nothingtons and I went over to a bar a little over a block away. The Eagle is a motorcycle, bear, leather-daddy bar that a lot of the bands that play at Slim’s go to. I can see why as the place was really cool. It had a huge outdoor area with trees and fire pits and just a really cool look about it. The bartender even gave us some killer Boston Crème Cake that was leftover from an earlier party. I had a Beck’s with the kids and then hailed a cab, getting home at 2 AM. I got up for work this morning at 5. Good grief am I tired.
Take care.
jeremy
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
P.O.S. is Ruining My Life
We had quite the day on Saturday. We were invited over to my friend Toby’s house in the afternoon as his roommate was having a Sangria party. We rolled in about 5 PM to find the party well underway. Sangria was flowing copiously and Josie was a big hit with the punk kids and the college kids alike. I spent much of my time preventing her from mauling Toby’s soccer ball, which she took an instant attraction to.
On the way back from the party, we saw a small corner store that was selling soccer balls, so we grabbed one for her. She wanted to play with it the whole way home. Once unleashed in the house, she took to running around with her new favorite toy. For five minutes. Josie punctured it, and then was sufficiently freaked out when the air began hissing out of it. Oh well, it was only five bucks. I need a bullet proof soccer ball or something, I guess.
We stopped at a local Mediterranean joint for dinner before heading out to Bottom of the Hill to see P.O.S. We happened to run into my buddy J.R. and his friend Eric at the restaurant, so we dined with them and then Eric was nice enough to give us a ride to the venue.
BOTH is a decent venue, it holds probably about 300 people, I would estimate. The stage is facing you as soon as you walk in the door, and they have a back pool/pinball room that doubles as a merch area for shows. They also have a back patio where they will have BBQs on Sunday afternoons before shows, which would be kind of fun.
The first guy up went by the name Silent Army, I believe. He’s a local Bay Area guy, and P.O.S. wanted him to do 10-15 minutes before the rest of the acts. Not too bad, I’d be interested in seeing him again with more time, but the most notable thing about him was his killer hoodie. It had all of the chest bones on front and back, and the hood was a skull, I want one.
The second act was Dessa from Doomtree. She’s the female rapper in that group, Saturday night she was doing some solo material. She’s definitely improved over the few years I’ve seen her, and she can hold her own on stage. There’s just something missing with her that I can’t quite put my finger on. It may be a confidence issue, but that’s merely conjecture.
Next up was Mac Lethal. I’ve seen his name around tons of times, but never had a chance to check him out previously in the Midwest. He was pretty entertaining, and very funny, but nothing that I’d purchase, I don’t think. He ripped on everything from the “Lean with it, rock with it” motorcycle dance, Chinese character tattoos and being asked to be on the White Rapper show on VH1 (he didn’t accept, obviously).
Finally the main event was P.O.S. He’s become something of an inside joke amongst my show-attending friends, as it seems like he’s opened up for just about everybody under the sun in MPLS. I’ve seen him open doing solo stuff or with Doomtree for acts as varied as Atmosphere, Dillinger Four and The Hold Steady. He definitely held his own being the headliner, however. He performed a bunch of material off of his most recent album, and even broke out a couple of new songs that he’s working on. Paul, our friend from Georgia who had never even heard of him, really liked him which is a good sign. Spilled cider and screaming out lyrics were in abundance throughout his set.
After this we nabbed a cab and headed to a bar in the Mission to hook up with Paul’s friend Jonah and Pete, and then proceeded to an afterparty in some loft a couple of blocks away. I poured myself a sick Jack Daniels and Ginger Ale and tried my best to mingle, but the electronica blaring throughout the party was too much. Plus there was a baby there. A baby, at an afterparty at three in the morning. It was weird, to say the least.
If anyone wants to hear P.O.S. go to www.rhymesayers.com and check it out, hopefully you’ll dig it.
jeremy
On the way back from the party, we saw a small corner store that was selling soccer balls, so we grabbed one for her. She wanted to play with it the whole way home. Once unleashed in the house, she took to running around with her new favorite toy. For five minutes. Josie punctured it, and then was sufficiently freaked out when the air began hissing out of it. Oh well, it was only five bucks. I need a bullet proof soccer ball or something, I guess.
We stopped at a local Mediterranean joint for dinner before heading out to Bottom of the Hill to see P.O.S. We happened to run into my buddy J.R. and his friend Eric at the restaurant, so we dined with them and then Eric was nice enough to give us a ride to the venue.
BOTH is a decent venue, it holds probably about 300 people, I would estimate. The stage is facing you as soon as you walk in the door, and they have a back pool/pinball room that doubles as a merch area for shows. They also have a back patio where they will have BBQs on Sunday afternoons before shows, which would be kind of fun.
The first guy up went by the name Silent Army, I believe. He’s a local Bay Area guy, and P.O.S. wanted him to do 10-15 minutes before the rest of the acts. Not too bad, I’d be interested in seeing him again with more time, but the most notable thing about him was his killer hoodie. It had all of the chest bones on front and back, and the hood was a skull, I want one.
The second act was Dessa from Doomtree. She’s the female rapper in that group, Saturday night she was doing some solo material. She’s definitely improved over the few years I’ve seen her, and she can hold her own on stage. There’s just something missing with her that I can’t quite put my finger on. It may be a confidence issue, but that’s merely conjecture.
Next up was Mac Lethal. I’ve seen his name around tons of times, but never had a chance to check him out previously in the Midwest. He was pretty entertaining, and very funny, but nothing that I’d purchase, I don’t think. He ripped on everything from the “Lean with it, rock with it” motorcycle dance, Chinese character tattoos and being asked to be on the White Rapper show on VH1 (he didn’t accept, obviously).
Finally the main event was P.O.S. He’s become something of an inside joke amongst my show-attending friends, as it seems like he’s opened up for just about everybody under the sun in MPLS. I’ve seen him open doing solo stuff or with Doomtree for acts as varied as Atmosphere, Dillinger Four and The Hold Steady. He definitely held his own being the headliner, however. He performed a bunch of material off of his most recent album, and even broke out a couple of new songs that he’s working on. Paul, our friend from Georgia who had never even heard of him, really liked him which is a good sign. Spilled cider and screaming out lyrics were in abundance throughout his set.
After this we nabbed a cab and headed to a bar in the Mission to hook up with Paul’s friend Jonah and Pete, and then proceeded to an afterparty in some loft a couple of blocks away. I poured myself a sick Jack Daniels and Ginger Ale and tried my best to mingle, but the electronica blaring throughout the party was too much. Plus there was a baby there. A baby, at an afterparty at three in the morning. It was weird, to say the least.
If anyone wants to hear P.O.S. go to www.rhymesayers.com and check it out, hopefully you’ll dig it.
jeremy
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Krusty's Revenge
As some of you may know, I don’t like clowns. I’m not entirely scared of them, but I don’t want them around me in non-clowny environments, either. That’s why I’m still sort of surprised that I even had the Saturday I did.
It was decided that Paul and I would meet up for dinner and head to the DNA Lounge (I thought maybe I could get in for free if I showed them my tatts, kidding) to go to the monthly Bohemian Carnival. I had heard of this through Paul’s other friends Ed and Lauren, and it seemed like it would be a good way to blow an evening. Dr. Madd Vibe (a.k.a. Angelo Moore from Fishbone) has even worked with them before, so my interest was piqued.
Upon entering the DNA Lounge, I am confronted by a band of clowns onstage. Not clowns, like say, those dorks in Panic at the Disco!, or even Insane Clown Posse, but circus clowns. There were about ten of them onstage, bopping along with their flowing clown robes and red noses, and playing a brand of what I’d call “Circus Funk”. It wasn’t too bad, in all honesty, and even evoked some dancing from the crowd.
The set-up of the DNA lounge was pretty great. A nice stage large enough to house numerous circus-folk that was pretty much in view from anywhere. Two large bars were located in the back, one on the main floor and one on the second tier overlooking the stage. To get up and down to the balconies, the stairwells went right towards the stage and then angled back. Basically whenever you went up or down, you were part of the stage for a brief instant, it was an interesting way to construct a venue, but it totally worked.
After accomplishing my mission to obtain cider from the bar, I went back to check out the clown action on stage. About half way through their third song, a trapeze artist appears and starts doing tricks maybe 15 feet from me. No safety net, no spotters, nothing. Just a diminutive girl doing crazy contortions on two pieces of rope and a bar.
Throughout the evening, other entertainers came to perform, both on the stage and off. Although not all of them were necessarily “Carnival” like, it was pretty entertaining. There were fire dancers, beat poets, bungee artists, comedians and DJ’s. There were also two girls who would dance on a pole (they were basically strippers that would intertwine themselves on the pole, but it was “tasteful”). All of this was slowly heightened by the prolific amount of cider that was ingested as the night wore on.
The only times I really had problems were when the clowns weren’t on stage. About 30% of the attendees of the show will dress up to fit the theme of the evening, including a number of clowns. There were a couple of times where I’d be going up the stairs with a clown close behind me. That was my cue to book it up the stairs and then wait for the clown to go by me, I was not remotely interested in having a clown come up behind me.
It was very entertaining overall, and would best be experienced on other substances besides cider, but I didn’t get eaten by a clown, so I give it a 7 out of 10.
jeremy
It was decided that Paul and I would meet up for dinner and head to the DNA Lounge (I thought maybe I could get in for free if I showed them my tatts, kidding) to go to the monthly Bohemian Carnival. I had heard of this through Paul’s other friends Ed and Lauren, and it seemed like it would be a good way to blow an evening. Dr. Madd Vibe (a.k.a. Angelo Moore from Fishbone) has even worked with them before, so my interest was piqued.
Upon entering the DNA Lounge, I am confronted by a band of clowns onstage. Not clowns, like say, those dorks in Panic at the Disco!, or even Insane Clown Posse, but circus clowns. There were about ten of them onstage, bopping along with their flowing clown robes and red noses, and playing a brand of what I’d call “Circus Funk”. It wasn’t too bad, in all honesty, and even evoked some dancing from the crowd.
The set-up of the DNA lounge was pretty great. A nice stage large enough to house numerous circus-folk that was pretty much in view from anywhere. Two large bars were located in the back, one on the main floor and one on the second tier overlooking the stage. To get up and down to the balconies, the stairwells went right towards the stage and then angled back. Basically whenever you went up or down, you were part of the stage for a brief instant, it was an interesting way to construct a venue, but it totally worked.
After accomplishing my mission to obtain cider from the bar, I went back to check out the clown action on stage. About half way through their third song, a trapeze artist appears and starts doing tricks maybe 15 feet from me. No safety net, no spotters, nothing. Just a diminutive girl doing crazy contortions on two pieces of rope and a bar.
Throughout the evening, other entertainers came to perform, both on the stage and off. Although not all of them were necessarily “Carnival” like, it was pretty entertaining. There were fire dancers, beat poets, bungee artists, comedians and DJ’s. There were also two girls who would dance on a pole (they were basically strippers that would intertwine themselves on the pole, but it was “tasteful”). All of this was slowly heightened by the prolific amount of cider that was ingested as the night wore on.
The only times I really had problems were when the clowns weren’t on stage. About 30% of the attendees of the show will dress up to fit the theme of the evening, including a number of clowns. There were a couple of times where I’d be going up the stairs with a clown close behind me. That was my cue to book it up the stairs and then wait for the clown to go by me, I was not remotely interested in having a clown come up behind me.
It was very entertaining overall, and would best be experienced on other substances besides cider, but I didn’t get eaten by a clown, so I give it a 7 out of 10.
jeremy
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Drunk in Public (Tranportation)
First of all, let me apologize for starting off hot and then not doing anything for the last 1.5 weeks. Quite frankly, nothing much happened that would be blog-worthy and I've been ill, so the combination of the two doesn't help. Hopefully I'll post as frequently as promised.
My new job requires me to take 3 modes of transportation and is 1.5 hours from door-to-door. I jump on the N Judah Muni Train Line (San Francisco's public transit train) a half block from my house which takes me to a BART stop in the city. I then take BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) to the Pleasant Hill Station from where I catch the shuttle my employer provides to the Safeway campus. It's not all that bad, really. I would have to drive an hour anyway, plus deal with $2.80 gas and bridge tolls and the aggravation of driving. Now I just pop on my headphones and read (I've read 5 books already in my month of public transit).
Despite my best attempts to block out the outside world, I can't help but notice there are some pretty interesting people who ride along with me, often providing some of the strange smells and stains I encounter as well. Following are some of the ones who stick out:
The Sleepers - The most common group of people, I don't understand how anyone can sleep on the Muni or BART. The conducter will brake, accelerate 10 feet and then brake again, throwing everyone up against the wall, but there's always one man or woman who won't even budge. How do these people do it? How do they not miss their stops? Aren't they afraid someone is going to snake their stuff? Do they suffer from narcolepsy? Again, I just don't get it.
The Solicitors - I run into someone from this group about once a week. It can be as simple as someone in a wheelchair asking for money for their medication to kids trying to earn money to go to hang-gliding camp or something. My favorites are the kids who have a box of plain M&M's that they're trying to sell for $4.00. I would totally love to buy your over-priced candy that looks like it's been left outside (as evidenced by the faded label) to bake into one congealed blob, but I really prefer Peanut M&M's.
The "Too Cool" for Public Transportation Clique - I must admit, I may be falling rapidly into this category. We're the ones who know where the best place to stand on the muni so that we have a minimal amount of people rubbing their various body parts on our asses as they work their way on and off. We keep an eye on the coveted spot near the doors on the inside part of the train car that won't be used as soon as we emerge from underground, and then jump to that spot as soon as possible. We read while standing up, not even bother to hold onto the safety rails, as we have our knees poised perfectly as shock absorbers and can sway back and forth as the conductor tries their best to make the train jump from the tracks. The key to the whole thing is to appear as if you are ignoring everyone and every once in a while look around the train as if to say, "See here, I'm reading a book, you cretins. Don't you enjoy how smoothly I make this look? Don't you wish you had as much public transportation knowledge as I? Now, back to my reading,". I had to pick some group to join, nobody wants to be a loner on the Muni.
Future Wife Just Dumped Me Guy - This was just one dude who was riding the Muni last weekend. He was a young guy and didn't look to be crazy. Heavily intoxicated, he would spit on the floor and cat-call every woman from 8 to 80 getting on the train. He would talk to himself loudly, then mouth words when trying to talk to others. I was ready for him to start trying to fight people. Then we noticed it. On his pinkie there was a woman's diamond engagement ring. The dude had obviously just been dumped, and was probably on hour 54 of his drunken recovery. Poor bastard.
The Staring Contest Crew - I'll find one of these guys about once a week as well. They try to come off as the hardest guys (and it's ALWAYS a guy) on the train. They'll constantly look around the train, trying to make eye contact with anyone. Once they do, they lock eyes and make sure the other person looks away first. Once they've vanquished their foe, they smirk and look for the next "punk". The funny thing is, these guys are usually 17 years old, coming in from the suburbs to go hang out in the city near the cable cars or the piers. Hilarious.
Gotta roll. If tonight goes down as expected, hopefully I'll have something else to post for everyone tomorrow.
jeremy
My new job requires me to take 3 modes of transportation and is 1.5 hours from door-to-door. I jump on the N Judah Muni Train Line (San Francisco's public transit train) a half block from my house which takes me to a BART stop in the city. I then take BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) to the Pleasant Hill Station from where I catch the shuttle my employer provides to the Safeway campus. It's not all that bad, really. I would have to drive an hour anyway, plus deal with $2.80 gas and bridge tolls and the aggravation of driving. Now I just pop on my headphones and read (I've read 5 books already in my month of public transit).
Despite my best attempts to block out the outside world, I can't help but notice there are some pretty interesting people who ride along with me, often providing some of the strange smells and stains I encounter as well. Following are some of the ones who stick out:
The Sleepers - The most common group of people, I don't understand how anyone can sleep on the Muni or BART. The conducter will brake, accelerate 10 feet and then brake again, throwing everyone up against the wall, but there's always one man or woman who won't even budge. How do these people do it? How do they not miss their stops? Aren't they afraid someone is going to snake their stuff? Do they suffer from narcolepsy? Again, I just don't get it.
The Solicitors - I run into someone from this group about once a week. It can be as simple as someone in a wheelchair asking for money for their medication to kids trying to earn money to go to hang-gliding camp or something. My favorites are the kids who have a box of plain M&M's that they're trying to sell for $4.00. I would totally love to buy your over-priced candy that looks like it's been left outside (as evidenced by the faded label) to bake into one congealed blob, but I really prefer Peanut M&M's.
The "Too Cool" for Public Transportation Clique - I must admit, I may be falling rapidly into this category. We're the ones who know where the best place to stand on the muni so that we have a minimal amount of people rubbing their various body parts on our asses as they work their way on and off. We keep an eye on the coveted spot near the doors on the inside part of the train car that won't be used as soon as we emerge from underground, and then jump to that spot as soon as possible. We read while standing up, not even bother to hold onto the safety rails, as we have our knees poised perfectly as shock absorbers and can sway back and forth as the conductor tries their best to make the train jump from the tracks. The key to the whole thing is to appear as if you are ignoring everyone and every once in a while look around the train as if to say, "See here, I'm reading a book, you cretins. Don't you enjoy how smoothly I make this look? Don't you wish you had as much public transportation knowledge as I? Now, back to my reading,". I had to pick some group to join, nobody wants to be a loner on the Muni.
Future Wife Just Dumped Me Guy - This was just one dude who was riding the Muni last weekend. He was a young guy and didn't look to be crazy. Heavily intoxicated, he would spit on the floor and cat-call every woman from 8 to 80 getting on the train. He would talk to himself loudly, then mouth words when trying to talk to others. I was ready for him to start trying to fight people. Then we noticed it. On his pinkie there was a woman's diamond engagement ring. The dude had obviously just been dumped, and was probably on hour 54 of his drunken recovery. Poor bastard.
The Staring Contest Crew - I'll find one of these guys about once a week as well. They try to come off as the hardest guys (and it's ALWAYS a guy) on the train. They'll constantly look around the train, trying to make eye contact with anyone. Once they do, they lock eyes and make sure the other person looks away first. Once they've vanquished their foe, they smirk and look for the next "punk". The funny thing is, these guys are usually 17 years old, coming in from the suburbs to go hang out in the city near the cable cars or the piers. Hilarious.
Gotta roll. If tonight goes down as expected, hopefully I'll have something else to post for everyone tomorrow.
jeremy
Sunday, January 7, 2007
A Hitchhiker's Guide to Marin County
On Saturday morning we packed up the dog and took Highway 1 across the Golden Gate bridge to Marin County just north of SF. We wound up the mountain and ended up at a State Park called Mount Tamale-Pies, or something similar. We hiked up to the top near the fire tower and had a fantastic view of the whole bay area. Josie had a pretty good time leaping from rock to rock and sampling some of the local flora. It was freezing up there, however, and marked the first time since I've been in CA that I've seen ice that wasn't nestled nicely in Southern Comfort.
We continued our journey up over the mountain and stopped in (Tommy) Stinson Beach. It was a pretty small beach community of about 1000 people, and you could tell it was the "Off" Season there. Not many people wandering about and we were the only ones at the Sand Dollar restaurant for quite a while. We walked up the beach and let Josie run about in the surf and attempt to ingest copious amounts of seaweed.
On our way out of Stinson Beach we saw three runners throw up their thumbs to hitch a ride. I occasionally make really idiotic decisions, and this was one of those times. We let the oldest of the guys climb in the back and get a nice tongue bath from the dog. He had run over the mountain to the beach and was looking to get a ride back to Mill Valley. He proceeded to tell us that he was a retired elementary school teached and often ran over the mountain to the beach in less than an hour. He was practicing for the Dally Trail race (may have been called something else), the 2nd oldest race in the nation after the Boston Marathon. He proceeded to point out every time the trail crossed the road. Once we arrived in Mill Valley, he felt compelled to show us around the downtown area. No detail was left spared.
"There's a great bookstore where you can get great maps and books about the Dally Trail,".
"There's the library, it has a great reference section and viewing area about the Dally Trail. Numerous items from my collection are in the display,".
"See that guy with the hat and the white beard, he's Irish. I don't remember his name,".
"Sometimes in the park a guy wanders around with a guitar,".
"There's a famous rock club. Huey Lewis and the News once had a picture of it on an album cover. I don't have that album, though. I think Huey Lewis lives near me,".
I never got the guy's name, but we just started calling him "Abe" after Grandpa Simpson. I fully expected him to bust out an "We wore an onion on our belt, which was the style at the time,". After finishing the tour with him waving to people he knew out of the backseat of our car, we dropped him off near his home. "You can see the top of our house over there near the trees. It's called Pickleweed and..." Just get out of the car grandpa.
Once Abe was gone, Josied whined and pined for her new friend, but our eardrums were happy for the rest. The moral of the story is don't pick up crazy old men who are hitch-hiking near the beach, even if they are overly friendly and frail.
Take care.
We continued our journey up over the mountain and stopped in (Tommy) Stinson Beach. It was a pretty small beach community of about 1000 people, and you could tell it was the "Off" Season there. Not many people wandering about and we were the only ones at the Sand Dollar restaurant for quite a while. We walked up the beach and let Josie run about in the surf and attempt to ingest copious amounts of seaweed.
On our way out of Stinson Beach we saw three runners throw up their thumbs to hitch a ride. I occasionally make really idiotic decisions, and this was one of those times. We let the oldest of the guys climb in the back and get a nice tongue bath from the dog. He had run over the mountain to the beach and was looking to get a ride back to Mill Valley. He proceeded to tell us that he was a retired elementary school teached and often ran over the mountain to the beach in less than an hour. He was practicing for the Dally Trail race (may have been called something else), the 2nd oldest race in the nation after the Boston Marathon. He proceeded to point out every time the trail crossed the road. Once we arrived in Mill Valley, he felt compelled to show us around the downtown area. No detail was left spared.
"There's a great bookstore where you can get great maps and books about the Dally Trail,".
"There's the library, it has a great reference section and viewing area about the Dally Trail. Numerous items from my collection are in the display,".
"See that guy with the hat and the white beard, he's Irish. I don't remember his name,".
"Sometimes in the park a guy wanders around with a guitar,".
"There's a famous rock club. Huey Lewis and the News once had a picture of it on an album cover. I don't have that album, though. I think Huey Lewis lives near me,".
I never got the guy's name, but we just started calling him "Abe" after Grandpa Simpson. I fully expected him to bust out an "We wore an onion on our belt, which was the style at the time,". After finishing the tour with him waving to people he knew out of the backseat of our car, we dropped him off near his home. "You can see the top of our house over there near the trees. It's called Pickleweed and..." Just get out of the car grandpa.
Once Abe was gone, Josied whined and pined for her new friend, but our eardrums were happy for the rest. The moral of the story is don't pick up crazy old men who are hitch-hiking near the beach, even if they are overly friendly and frail.
Take care.
Wednesday, January 3, 2007
2007
Since I'm here in a new city it sometimes gets difficult to keep emailing people with what's been going on. Often I'll cut and paste entire emails just so I'm not re-typing the same things over and over (sorry about that). So if you are reading this, there's a good chance that I sent you an invite to do so. Saves me time and Carpal Tunnel.
We rang in the new year by going to see Hepcat and The Aggrolites at a place called Slim's. J. Ryan came up for the weekend and was in attendance as well. Slim's is a little bit bigger than the Triple Rock Social Club, it probably holds about 500 people and had a nice big bar extending along the side wall and curving to the back wall. There appeared to be a handful of tables on a raised mezzanine in back, but I didn't venture up there.
The Aggrolites put out one of my favorite albums of 2006. They are a soulful, laid-back ska band that reminds me of summer. I was having a blast watching their show, they are pretty charismatic and can put on a heck of a show. I later talked to the keyboardist for a minute or so and got some free stickers, but they didn't bring any XL t-shirts for the fat kids.
Seeing Hepcat again was fantastic. I recall seeing them everywhere from the 7th St. Entry to playing above the outfield wall at Saint's Stadium. I had previously thought that they had broken up, but I was glad to get a chance to see them again. You can tell they are just having a blast playing the show and getting everybody to move.
At midnight a bunch of balloons dropped, champagne was drank, and kisses were exchanged. It was a great way to start a new year in my new home town.
I hope to keep this updated a couple of times a week, we'll see how that goes. Take care.
We rang in the new year by going to see Hepcat and The Aggrolites at a place called Slim's. J. Ryan came up for the weekend and was in attendance as well. Slim's is a little bit bigger than the Triple Rock Social Club, it probably holds about 500 people and had a nice big bar extending along the side wall and curving to the back wall. There appeared to be a handful of tables on a raised mezzanine in back, but I didn't venture up there.
The Aggrolites put out one of my favorite albums of 2006. They are a soulful, laid-back ska band that reminds me of summer. I was having a blast watching their show, they are pretty charismatic and can put on a heck of a show. I later talked to the keyboardist for a minute or so and got some free stickers, but they didn't bring any XL t-shirts for the fat kids.
Seeing Hepcat again was fantastic. I recall seeing them everywhere from the 7th St. Entry to playing above the outfield wall at Saint's Stadium. I had previously thought that they had broken up, but I was glad to get a chance to see them again. You can tell they are just having a blast playing the show and getting everybody to move.
At midnight a bunch of balloons dropped, champagne was drank, and kisses were exchanged. It was a great way to start a new year in my new home town.
I hope to keep this updated a couple of times a week, we'll see how that goes. Take care.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)