"How Did I Get Here?"

I got off the subway at Canal Street. My Google maps wasn't working. I needed to get to Greenwich Street. I'm crossing the street, waiting for the light and a guy rolls up on a bike. I recognize him immediately. I ask him for directions. Greenwich Street is 2 blocks up. As he pulls away I say, "Thank you David Byrne!"

Yeah so the lead singer of the Talking Heads gave me directions in TriBeCa tonight.

Bird Is The Word.

JustinRichel from Etsy did this. I like it.

Shallow...

What I've learned from the show Dating in the Dark is that I'm shallow, too. Maybe not a fool, but I'm just as interested in looks as the next person. I wish this wasn't true. Especially since I know I'm not a "10" myself. But it's funny when people choose not to go with the person that's been revealed to them as less attractive because, let's be honest here, they aren't required to marry them, or even date long-term. Perhaps running away and not dealing just seems far easier than facing another person. Actually, I can relate to that, too.

Whoa! Update! I just read on the abc.com site the couples updates... only ONE is still together officially dating. Most of the others just remain in contact or talk regularly or stay in touch on Facebook (ha!). Well, there you go.

Aloha Jimmy!

(if Elvis ever went to see Buffet, he'd dress like this)

I went to my 2nd Jimmy Buffet concert ever this week. The last time I went was August of 1990, Lakewoood Ampitheatre, Atlanta GA. That concert was a part of his live album, Feeding Frenzy. I don't remember much (no, not because I was drunk/high), except having a pretty good time. And the motions to the song "Fins."


So, here I was this week, 20 years later, at Jones Beach for my 2nd concert. The crowd was older. There were lots of Hawaiian shirts and leis. I don't recall that from the last time. I remember more string bikini tops and cut off jeans from 1990. Maybe it's the toll of 20 years on those same fans? A Hawaiian shirt is far more forgiving.


But these fans were DETERMINED to have a good time. The tailgating looked like it had been going on all day. There was lots of awkward white-people-dancing. Lots of swaying.


Jimmy looked like your cool, tan uncle. He was in board shorts and barefoot.


I forgot that when you get past "Margaritaville," I still actually like some of his songs, and know a lot more than I realized. I only have "Margaritaville" on my iPod, but I really acutally like "One Particular Harbor" and a few others I had forgotten about.


I don't think I'm really Jimmy's demographic (a little too young, too dare I say "with it"), but I actually have a lot more respect coming out of the concert than I did going in. This guy's been at this for 40 years. He can sell out shows. People obviously take of days of work to see him. That's gotta say something.


He takes them to that place they imagine of frozen drinks, beaches, and no worries. I'd rather get on a plane and actually go, but maybe for some, the dream is better than the reality.

When (will) the Student Become(s) the Master (?)

I'm such a cliche. Saw Julie and Julia for the first time on Netflix. Immediately went to my mother's copy of Mastering and poached an egg. Then I did a chicken breast recipe and am planning to make beef braised in beer tomorrow. How middle-brow. Sigh.

(ps: making up for many missed entries in the past few months)

These Boots Were Made for Walker

My dad has started using one of these. What a hassle. He needs it, but still.

Leather Notes?

When it comes to wine, what I don't know could fill a very thick wine list.

What I do know, is that it's great to have a friend who works at a wine bar.

She's been letting me taste wines with hints of leather and tobacco. Who knew?

No Boone's Farms here, folks.

This is Wine and Roses on the Upper West Side. Try the prociutto, pear and blue cheese app if you happen to come. And tip heavily!

Your Telling The Truth

Grammar is going from bad to worse. A student friend of mine got a B on a recent papre because while the content was an A the grammar was a C. Bad grammar can be grating to thus of us with good grammar. But I shouldn't cast stones. My grammar, when correct, is pretty instinctive, not conscious. I do what looks or sounds right and I probably get about an A- level of correctness. Which was my overall high school GPA. Nowadays, if one grows up texting and IM-ing, where speed and brevity trump grammar, and in an age when computers correct spelling, it's no wonder. But I think I'm old-school enough I prefer "your" and "you're" to be used in the traditional way rather than "your" for both.

Absurd Statement

I'm in Starbucks, which, for reasons unclear to me, we call "Starby's" or "Starbs."

The advertisement sign reads:

Wishing is what makes the holidays the holidays.

No, no, no.

It's factually wrong, etymologcally wrong, and also meaningless. Literally ripping out meaning while trying to convey a feeling that will entice me to purchase flavored coffee.

(Now, I'm a total hypocrite. They just offered me a sample of peppermint mocha coffee and I accepted without hesitation.)

So much for that keen observation bordering on rant.

File Under: Center of the Universe

I donkt think itks my imagination that when I stand waiting for the bus with a group of people that the bus stops directly in front of my with disproportionate frequency. As if bus drivers instinctively know how important I am.

If only the rest of the universe followed their lead!

Crazy Man on the bus

Oh, New York.

I waited for the Limited bus.
To save time.

Who knew there would be a crazy, and it appears drunk man on the bus.

It started with the statement "all white people in the back."

Then he hit the window and spat. Not sure why. Then he almost got into a tussle with another passenger.

The bus driver stopped and asked if he could behave and then kept driving for a bit. This angered the other passengers who were not afraid to yell.

He stopped again near a cop car and 2 passengers got out t get the police. The man stumbled off before anyone came over.

It could have gotten violent. It didn't and I'm glad. It reveals the anger seething just below the surface. Not only in the man, but in the other passengers.

It's like 8:15 am. Angry already?

What's a girl to wear?

Somehow I forget every year how to dress for cold weather once fall comes.

I wish the weather forecast came with directions on what to wear. Like, "it's going to be 42 degrees today. You're going to want a medium weight jacket, scarf and gloves, but no hat." Something like that.

No Photography, Please.

I went to a great concert last night. U2 at Giant's Stadium. I was in general admission on the floor actually sort of "inside" the circle of the stage. I could see Bono's 5 o'clock shadow, the frayed bottoms of The Edge's jeans. Amazingly close.

It used to be that no cameras were allowed at concerts. Nowadays, what with camera phones, they've given up. So everyone, and I mean just about every single person (but me) had an actual camera.

And bou did they use them. I found it really distracting. And actually disturbing.

I want to be in the moment and enjoy the event. Taking pictures pulls you out of it. We supposedly take pictures to remember, but this is a concert. It's music. You can't really capture that.

I wouldn't begrudge someone a pic or two, but it was relentless and ubiquitous. I feel bad for them, actually.

You can't hold onto an experience like that. Bono's 10 feet away! Look! Enjoy it! Be present! Don't look at him through a screen.

Won't your ticket stub be enough?

Don't Build Your House On a Flood Plain

It's just so obvious. That little creek over there, right next to your house on the plot of flat land? Yeah, well, once every 20 years or so it floods big-time. Don't build there.

There hasn't been a really major flood in Atlanta since I was a kid. I remember my school's football field, next to Nancy Creek becoming a temporary lake. The golf courses also looked like lakes. Ditto the YMCA soccer fields.

Why? Because they were in flood plains. Simple. Obvious. That's why you build sports fields there. And not houses.

But then I remember when the horse field across from the soccer fields was developed. 20 or more houses were built. Not a good idea. They must have sold them to people from out of town.

In recent years I've noticed several new homes right by creeks. There's one over near Sarah Smith School, practically over the creek. What were they thinking?

As humans, we have this ability to ignore, deny, lie to ourselves and others that we are not in control, that bad things won't happen to us. I'm pretty sure Jesus had a parable about wise and foolish builders that relates to this.

Some People Run Late...

But I'm on time.
Sometimes pathologically. Even sometimes when I know I should be late. Like right now. My dear friend, former New Yorker, and a few others are meeting at this bar on Irving Place. Here I sit. The only one here.
The time to meet was 7:30. It's 7:45 now.
I should have known better!
It's so simple.
I even thought I was going to be a little late. Took my time getting ready and everything.

This trait is great for making trains, appointments etc.

Not so good for a night out. Fashionably late? Moi?
Um, no.

Ok, back to sitting at the bar. Tick tock tick tock.

in response to the athiest and diest bus campaigns in London...

The heavens declare the glory of God. I don't think he needs city buses.

Lovin' the Ladies... (peas that is)

The Vegetable Man on Wieuca Road here in Atlanta has Lady Peas! To the uninitiated, they are like a springy-fresh combination of english peas and black eyed peas. But delicate and delicious. Get them while you can.

Hospitals...

There are so many things not to like about hospitals. I like the IDEA of them - healing the sick - but the reality, for a patient, or, in my case, the daughter of a patient, far from a place where they help you get better.

Here I sit, as I type, in the nuclear medicine lab as my father has a "stress test." Apparently there's a worldwide shortage of a particular isotope they usually use for this test, and they have to use another, slower one. Which means lunch in the hospital cafeteria! Yikes. And then a 3 hour wait to repeat the test. My father is not pleased and cranky. I don't blame him.

I think, also, that I would hate a job where I had to wear scrubs every day, was subjected to primarily flourescent lighting, and the weird-smelling, dry, cold hospital air. And then there's the ugly art, the strange color choices and other aesthetic issues. I'm glad I didn't choose medicine as a career!

Internet Is (almost) totally silent about AMAZING TASTE TREAT!

My father belongs to an Atlanta country club (Capital City Club). It is not the very most socially sought after or elite. That distinction would go to the Piedmont Driving Club, but the CCC is right up there. It does have one particular food that would make it worth joining just to have in unlimited quantities. I am, of course, talking about the basket of hot butter Saltine crackers served as you sit down for dinner. In recent years other Atlanta clubs have added these onto their tables as well, but make no mistake, the CCC had it first.

The internet is virtually silent about these hot buttery crackers with the exception of a brief note in an article in 1999 which you can see here (about midway down the page).

How could this be? Have Atlantans been keeping this delicious secret on purpose? I remember as a kid trying to make them at home. I put butter on my saltines and stuck them in the oven, and got soggy crackers. I even tried different temperatures to no avail. The real things are crisp! The butter has saturated them without making them soggy in the least. I actually assumed they were fried in the butter. I still don't know how they do it.

I'd like to share a picture with you, but I have none. Imagine the cracker a golden yellow, warm, crisp, buttery, melting in your mouth. You could eat a dozen. As a kid I would spread extra butter on them. Decadent in a very Southern way. Does anyone really know how to make them? Can we share these with the world? It's about time!

Desperately Seeking Wi-Fi

So when I visit my dad, I always have my trusty Blackberry (I just upgraded to the Curve! Loving it.). However, sometimes, for work etc. I need the Real Thing. Not Coca-Cola, but the True Internet. And my technologically-impaired father has none. Lucky for me, I live less than a mile from Brookhaven Station where no less than 3 establishments have free wireless. Dunkin' Donuts, Hudson Grille, and The Mellow Mushroom. I usually sit in my car (as I am now!) and quickly upload/download what I need to do and split. It works. Not ideal, but whatever. What's strange to me is none of these 3 places strike me as the kind of place that would have free wi fi. Maybe Dunkin, but the others - a sports bar/restaurant and a pizza place aren't exactly the kinds of places. Whatever. I'll take it! (that's my computer, in the car, outside the Dunkin')

Weed 'Em Out?

view from the day
Originally uploaded by absolutwade

Why aren't there pedestrian crossing signals on Park Avenue in Midtown? Are they trying to elminate the weak ones in the herd? What's the deal? I mean, honestly.

The Incredible Edible Cancer Stick

This morning I went into a local bodega because I was running late and I knew they sold hard boiled eggs. A great portable breakfast. I saw the sign on the counter, "2 hard boiled eggs $1."

"Great," I thought to myself, "they have some this morning."

After waiting for the person ahead of me to pay, I went up to the counter.

"Hard boiled eggs," I requested. The man mumbled something back. I thought he was repeating my order as he turned around to grasp an item.

The clerk placed a pack of Marlboro Lights onto the counter saying, "Marlboro Lights?"

Um, no. HARD BOILED EGGS.

I thought that these two things sound alike. How did this happen? This man was not a native English speaker, was that the problem? Was it because it was early in the morning and I was mumbling? A bit of my sounthern accent coming out?

HARD BOILED EGGS. MARLBORO LIGHTS.

I laughed.

It's Electric.

Polaroid Transfer, Tower
Originally uploaded by Ryan Thomas

I've almost always prefered city-scapes to landscapes.
This one captures a mood pefectly.

VZ = PO

Is it just me, or is the Verizon store an awful lot like the Post Office? And not in a good way.

A Ploughman's Lunch At The Bull In Barkham

A Ploughman's Lunch At The Bull In Barkham
Originally uploaded by marty_pinker

A much prettier ploughman also from flickr.com.
I'd rather eat this one, I believe.

ploughman's lunch 1

ploughman's lunch
Originally uploaded by marty_pinker

Just read about a sandwich over at thekitchn.com that was close to a ploughman's lunch. Here's where a very detailed person on flickr.com uploaded a photo with each food diagrammed.

Kitchen Sink (breakfast) Casserole

This weekend I made a breakfast casserole out of mostly leftovers. It was awesome. I did buy the eggs, because to make a good casserole/strata in a 9x13 pan you need about 10 eggs. Or 12. The fact is, these things are so forgiving you almost can't mess it up. I don't even measure - I eyeball it.

It's called "Kitchen Sink" because you can kind of throw whatever into it (except the sink) and it works. No two are the same.

The things you need are: bread, milk, eggs, butter, and cheese. And from there, just see what's lying about.

10 eggs, scrambled into a bowl.

The milk was leftover from a houseguest earlier in the week. She insisted on 1% and got it herself. I put maybe a little less than a pint in the bowl.

A dash of nutmeg. This is a secret and key ingredient. You can't even really tell what it is, when mixed in, but it keeps everything interesting.

I had some leftover butter, about half a stick or so, melted and combined with the milk and egg mixture.

Then, in the pan I took 3 frozen whole-wheat dinner rolls left over from a party about a month ago and sliced them up. I also had about a pound of honey-backed sliced ham from the same party. Frozen ham slices very nicely. I diced it and mixed it into the pan.

If my roommate hadn't just cleaned out the fridge, I would have taken the slightly-old but not too old onions or zucchini and sauted them and thrown them in, too.

Salsa or tomato sauce would also have worked, but I didn't have any. And that really changes the attitude of the dish, so strictly optional.

I poured the milk and egg mixture over the bread and ham. Then put the cheese on top.

The cheese this time was gouda left over from a graduation party a few days ago. I was feeling lazy, so I just sliced it on top. I guess ideally one would grate it. Whatever. It worked fine.

Let that sit and absorb overnight and pop it in an oven that's at about 375 for around 40 or so minutes, or until it looks done. Big hit. Wish I had a picture.

Water Towers

What exactly do they do? I realize that's a dumb question. But are they just for fires, or do they supply the regular water for a building? And why can you only see them in some buildings? Is it only older buildings of a certain size? Even though I have a lot of dumb questions about them, I like them. There's something really pleasing about their shape as they perch on the top of buildings in the city.

Belated Yogurt Update! I made it myself!

Ta da!

(and dang was it good)

Grilled Mexican corn, Café Habana (New York City)

Grilled Mexican corn, Café Habana (New York City)
Originally uploaded by ardenstreet

Just because we didn't conceive of this particular dish ourselves, those of us raised in the Deep South (in the US, that is) can greatly appreciate the Mexican version of corn on the cob.

Corn is my Georgia-native dad's favorite vegetable, and fresh corn, properly prepared (on or off the cob) is one of my favorites as well.

If you are in New York City and happen upon a street fair in the spring or fall, grilled corn is a must. They also do a great job with it at Cafe Habana in the NoLIta neighborhood of Manhattan.