CURLY: Hey, I know that song that Dale's singing. Looks up over the ridge. Doesn't Leon Redbone sing that? Always liked that song... Hey, I wonder if I could do a little roll with my right hand on the 3rd beat, here on the hi-hat. That would be SWEET.
LARRY: Go for it. Enough with the quarter notes, anyway. It's not every day that you get to practice with real live people. Better make the most of it while you can...
CURLY: Dude, I don't know. Let me try it again. One, two, VLOP, dip... one, two, VLOP, dip...FUUUUCK!
MOE: Oh COME ON. This always happens and it's SUCH a pain in the ass. TRY HARDER. Just CONCENTRATE.... and DON'T FORGET TO RELAX, OK!?!? Can't you feel how TENSE your arms are!?!?! You stay like that and you'll never make it through the song!
LARRY: You know that yelling doesn't help, Moe.
MOE: Whatever. I'm tired of pandering to Curly's delicate sensibilities. ENOUGH, already!
CURLY: one, two, VLOP, dip... one, two... I mean... one, two, VLOP, dip... Fuck. Now I'm out of sync with everyone else.
LARRY:Peeks up over the ridge again. ALERT! Dirty looks coming this way. Better take it down a notch and start over. Ok. Deep breath...
CURLY:Eyes glazing over and shaking head compulsively Oh, that's quite all right. We'll go back to the earlier beat. The other stuff is entirely too scary, anyway... Starts rocking back and forth hugging his knees and staring into space We're staying with the quarter notes. Nice Quarter notes. I like quarter notes. Quarter notes are safe. Everyone LOVES steady quarter notes.
LARRY: Quarter notes are boring.
MOE: Quarter notes suck.
For a moment of all three staring back and forth at each other in silence. Somewhere, someone is soloing on the guitar
CURLY:Suddenly comes to... Hey guys, is there somebody at the door?
Moe and Larry turn quickly away from the task at hand
LARRY: Huh? Wait...what? Larry sees that Moe is about to speak and throws his hand over Moe's mouth Forget him. Don't ruin the magic. Just keep going....
LARRY: I don't get it. How exactly is this different from playing the washboard? You've played this beat before.
CURLY:one, two, vlidbee, dip... one, two, vlidbee, dip... one, two, vlidbee, dip... one, two, vlidbee, dip... I don't know. It's got more bounce, I guess.
LARRY: What does that even MEAN? MOST things have more bounce than a washboard.
CURLY: No need to get nasty.... One, two, vlidbee, dip... Didn't say it was rocket surgery... one, two, vlidbee, dip... I'm just not used to playing anything with bounce... one, two, vlidbee, dip... I'm used to having to fake it...
LARRY: Interesting... Larry is briefly mezmorized by the fancy new trick Curly learned and let's his grip on Moe loosen
CURLY: I still think the hi-hat is too high, though. It's too far away from the snare.... one, two, vlidbee, dip... one, two, vlidbee, dip...
MOE: We have been THROUGH this, already. The hi-hat is as low as it's going to go. If you're having a problem, it's because you're playing it WRONG.
LARRY: You know we COULD always go ONLINE, and MAKE SURE there's isn't something stupid that we're overlooking with the setup...
LARRY: Songs almost over. Keep it steady. Forget the VLOPS. Stay on target. Remember Operation...
CURLY:one, two, vlidbee, dip... one, two, vlidbee, dip...I know. "There's lots of room to do it right, just don't touch the sides when you pull the bone out with the tweezers"
MOE: And... Song's done. It's over... Wait here, guys. Moe crawls out of the foxhole and survey's the situation. Returns a minute later Reaction is... ok. Yes... I think we're cool. Pausing for only a moment before standing particularly tall, and clearing his throat. So, we can't ignore that we made some mistakes, team. But all in all, the losses were acceptable. Some collateral damage IS inevitable, anyway...
They look at each other dumbly, waiting for the next song to begin...
MEGAN: I'm getting myself another beer. Anyone need anything, while I'm up?
Last night, Chad and I went to the James Beard House. It's located in Greenwich Village, which is perfect for lazy City Expats who need to schlep home to Jersey City after 10pm on a Tuesday.
Oh. My. God. The night was just wonderful. What an inspiration. What a lovely place. So many delicious dishes of things, using ingredients and techniques that I've only read about. Perhaps now, I will be brave enough to try to confit something... Sybaris Chef Matthew Bennett, came to NY all the way from Albany, Oregon, to cook an amazing meal. It focussed on locally grown ingredients from the Willamette Valley, where the restaurant is located. I won't comment specifically on the actual courses, because I don't think that anything I could write would do them any justice. Especially since the more I learn about food and cooking, the more I realize how small my vocabulary is on such subjects. All I can say, is that it was a truly wonderful experience.
While I'd like to think I conducted myself well enough when we were still in the restaurant: making small (if tipsy) talk with the other members of our table (who were all very interesting, warm and friendly), once I got home... This is pretty much how I felt:
I was really fucking proud of myself when I finished Infinite Jest.* It took a few tries on my part to get into the rhythm of it, as it's not an easy read. But once i got past, oh, the first 200 pages, and could keep everyone straight, it was tremendously satisfying. Just brilliant. Finishing it, was like finishing Atlas Shrugged.
Update: I just reread my post, while checking my email. Somehow I forgot to mention how sad I was this morning, to read of his passing. I was so moved by all of the links I read, that I felt compelled to write, and never mentioned why I was so compelled.
Ok. An attempt must be made to write something with a bit more substance. I'm almost compelled to write a disclaimer of some sort, I'm hardly a literary critic. But I won't. It's just a freaking blog, anyway.
His voice was just a voice that I just felt on some visceral level, I understood, even if I did occasionally have to pull out the dictionary. His perspective, occasional snobbiness (ok. fairly prevalent snobbiness), disillusionment, surreal sense of humor, unreasonably long run on sentences, were also just really fun. And It didn't hurt when he made fun of David Lynch (ok, well he only SORT OF did, I guess. (God bless the interweb. I found that entire essay here)).
Online today, I found a lot of comments people that all shared the same sentiment. While many people loved Infinite Jest, they hoped it wouldn't be his greatest achievement. Many hoped that something even greater, was in his head-bone, trying to work its way out. That's an awful lot of pressure.
I'm sad that he's gone, and also that I won't be able to read any new work. But there are a few things that he wrote in the past few years, that I did manage to overlook.
I'll be setting aside the food books for a little while. And my Michael Ruhlman books just arrived, too...
*Thanks for all of the book recommendations over the years, Josh.
Ok. So, the regular blogging thing hasn't been working too well for me this season. I could go into the why's, but I sort of think that would be boring to type, and probably also boring to read. So there. I have no excuse for why I haven't blogged.
But, I do know one thing. Although I haven't mastered the art of the reasonably regular post, I'm not ready to let go of this whole blogging thing. Not yet. There's a reason for this silly thing, if only to be an electronic scratch pad.
I'm reading a book right now called "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert*. I'm about halfway through, and as a result, my thoughts are generally vacillating between food and spirituality. Thinking about food is one of my favorite things, so what's not to love? The topic of spirituality, though, is a little different. Sort of a love/hate thing. While I do acknowledge and believe firmly that spirituality=good, I do get impatient with a lot of writing on the subject. This book, though? Surprisingly, and most definitely, awesome. But, anyway...
In addition to touching upon food, and spirituality in this book, the author discusses the power of words, solitary words, in a way that I found interesting. Especially in the context of attempting to write a blog. And so, today, inspired by this book, and also because I took a week off from work (and am therefore refreshed on a variety of different levels), I bring you a new topic, my favorite word(s) of the day. Maybe this will be a recurring theme. I'm not totally sure, but I'd like to think it might.
At this point, there will be no effort to define any words. I thought about it briefly, but decided against it for two reasons: The words will probably not be uncommon enough to bother, and I don't want to think about copyright issues. Who owns the copyright to a dictionary, anyway? My head is starting to spin, just pondering the concept of it.
Today, I have two words:
Compassion A lovely word. Spiritual. Comforting. Calm. I didn't realize this until recently, but I flat out haven't had much of this kicking around, lately. Of course, when needed, especially in a work context, I've been able to squeeze out some empathy. Problem/conflict solving is a whole lot easier if you can understand someone else's point of view. But truly feel compassion? Not in a good long while. But by acknowledging it now, I hope that I'm over a some sort of cosmic topes† in the road.
Stone Fruit I love the way these two words go together. In a way, it's an oxymoron. They are soft and tasty on the outside, but deep in the middle, there's this enormous nugget of indigestible-ness. But that nugget is a seed, so while inedible, it's ultimately full of potential. When I first thought of the word this week, it was as a piece of produce with a large piece of samsonite-sized emotional baggage. I had decided one night on my way home, after a very long day at work, that I was a piece of stone fruit. That deep down inside me was some hard, impenetrable, emotion-less marble-like void. Completely inaccessible to everyone, including myself. I did eventually get over that. And just when things were starting to brighten, I realized that I really DO like nectarines. More than peaches, even. Who knew. So, what started out as a bleak metaphor on a bad day, became a tasty snack. I wish all emotional hurdles had such happy and satisfying conclusions.
* Grazi for the loaner, Mrs. Smith (AKA Auntie Zuze). † the word for speed bump, in Spanish. I like the sound of it.
Mister Camera hasn't turned up, yet. But, honestly, I haven't been looking too hard. I still think it's here. Somewhere, anyway. I didn't want to replace it, partly out of laziness, but also because I have a fantasy of replacing it someday with a super swell digital SLR. But until the heavy duty home reno is complete, I can't justify the purchase.
But then a friend came by with a halfway decent Canon Elph. He needed cash in a hurry, and he made me an offer I couldn't refuse. So, I once again, have interweb eyes, through which I can share my humble abode, garden, inside of my brain, whatever this blog is, with you.
Behold! One almost ripe black cherry tomato, from my very first heirloom tomato plant that I grew from seed. Remember this? It's now taller than me. I am so proud.
The camera is tricky. There's a larger disparity between the viewfinder and lens. I suspect that I'm not going to be able to get much of anything worthwhile with the macro setting. Not nearly as nice a picture as what I could get with the older Olympus, anyway. It's one of the inherent downfalls of a point and shoot camera. But, maybe, just maybe, I'll get the hang of over compensating for it.
I may not ever end up being able to take any shots like this*:
But I suppose there are worse things in this world. *I took this picture last summer. I spent a good hour playing around with different angles with a very misshapen cuke. This one throws me into giggle fits every time. It's not just me, is it?
While I don't always see the diamonds in the rough that he does, I do think it's fun to try to reuse and repurpose old things. In a way, gardening is very much the same way for me. It's fun to take a plant from someone else, and try to give it a new home. Learning about it's nature and finding a place to feature it. We've brought japanese maple saplings, vinca and pachysandra up from my in-laws' house down in Maryland. Perhaps we'll be able to offer up some of our own plants to friends and return the favor some day, as plants grow and spread.
In addition to bringing new "old things" to our property, it's also been an interesting exercise to learn more about what we already have in place. It definitely changes the way I look at them. The edibles that came with our home (always my primary gardening focus), we have 1 rhubarb plant, tons of strawberries (now in containers, though. Talk about invasive!), a dwarf sour-cherry tree, and one concord grape vine that's been growing like crazy since we moved in.
I cooked up some of the rhubarb for the first time ever this year, after catching an episode of Jamie at Home. He has a recipe for an absolutely delicious Rhubarb Fool. Really, really good. I inhaled it with some greek yogurt, but I'm not sure I'd want to eat it too often. It used a lot of sugar. The strawberries, well, we just eat them as they ripen. We never get enough to cook with, but I'm fine with that.
The grape vines are another story. I have a love/hate relationship with them. Last year, when the grapes ripened, we had a hot bug-infested sticky mess for several weeks. We also have a dog now, and I keep reading about how toxic grapes are to dogs. The vine is trained up a really trashy looking trellis that the former homeowener cobbled together with what appears to be white PVC pipe and wire. It's also trained over one of the few remaining sunny parts of the yard. Underneath, he set up a table, where there is a slab of concrete. While it is nice to have a shady spot where's it flat enough to put a table, and it's also kind of fun to be able to tell friends to help themselves to them when they're at their most ripe, we don't like the setup. We know we want to change things around, but we haven't been able to decide what to do. Dale's not inclined to kill anything, and I while I am not so much enamored of this messy creature in our yard, I respect the fact that he doesn't want to outright kill anything that is clearly doing so well.
One plus about this year, is that there aren't nearly as many grapes growing this time around. I think that grapes only grow on 1 year old growth. My theory is that since we haven't really pruned it much at all, most of the growth is too old to produce fruit. Less fruit = less mess. And if we can keep the vine growth contained, there's probably a limit to how much new growth will intertwine with what is already there. So now we have a big ass grape vine, with not so much fruitness. A good thing? I still inclined to say no, up until last night.
I didn't understand the potential appeal of this setup, until I had a conversation with a neighbor while I was out walking Jesse. I don't know his name. He has a very thick accent and it's often very difficult to understand him. I THINK he's from somewhere in the Middle East, but I couldn't tell you with any certainty. We exchanged pleasantries, and afterwards he started gesturing into our back yard and was clearly asking me a question. I was a little embarrassed that it took me a little while to get what he was asking me. Eventually, I figured it out. He was wondering if he could have a bag or two of grape leaves for his wife. She has a great recipe for stuffed grape leaves, he said, and he'd love to be able to bring her some. In return, he promised to bring a sample of her dish back over for us to enjoy. Told him absolutely, but to come back a little later, since I was out with the dog.
He hasn't come back yet, but I've been googling stuffed grape leaves every since. I'm not very good at making stuffed anything, but I'm tempted to give this try. If only because it gives me a potentially delicious use for a much maligned plant in our yard (Ok, yes. Maligned only by me). And I'm taking a couple of days off next week, and this gives me something to do, while Dale continues with home renovation.*
I love that feeling when I first find something new to obsess over. I know the feeling will pass, but I want to feed it as long as I can. *He's back on the roof, replacing the bedroom windows. Which means I'll have the kitchen all to myself, since he can't work on two rooms at the same time. (insert mad-scientist laugh).
I knew this would happen.. I bought a 4-pack of hybrid cukes, because my heirloom seeds didn't germinate. Each pod had two plants in it. So, I have ended up with 8 plants. That's potentially an awful lot of cucumbers. We picked our first couple, and I've just been gnawing on them when I think of it. They're plenty tasty, but I guess I'm not so much in the habit of eating cucumbers on a regular basis. What to do.. what to do..
In college, I used to slice an english variety and throw them in stir fries from time to time. The kind that tend to come shrink wrapped. I think I thought thought they were zucchinis. Weren't bad....
I refuse to let them go to waste, though. Any advice on how to prepare cukes? Something other than Tzatziki and sliced in a salad? Do people ever cook cukes? I mean, besides the college-aged version of me?
