 
I love moving in. I hate moving out, and packing, and packing, and packing, and packing ... arrrrrghhhh! Mmmmm, meat pies ... The New York Times discovers the joys of one of Louisiana's best-kept secrets: the Natchitoches spicy meat pie (that's pronounced NACK-uh-tish, by the way). I hate to say it, but as always, I have to. Despite how lovely the Natchitoches meat pie is, in my opinion it's still inferior to the Lafayette's best-kept secret (except to Jazzfest attendees), Creole's Stuffed Bread. The case for gluttony. The author of Food: A History opines in the Times of London that gluttony isn't such a bad old sin after all, and is in fact a gift of evolution.
Merry Krimble and a Happy Goo Year! I hope all y'all are having a wonderful holiday. Please, stop reading this drivel and go tear open presents and stuff your face with food. (I can still hear my grandmother saying, "Save da bow! Save da bow!") But in the meantime, let's have a carol ... everybody ready? Pogo? Albert? Churchy? Aaaaaa-HEM! (Me me me me meeeeeeee ...)
Deck us all with Boston Charlie,(All blessings, honors and huzzah to the late, great Walt Kelly.)
Decision. Bruce Hardwood Floors, by Armstrong. Fulton LG Strip, Butterscotch. 3/4" thick solid oak, 2-1/4" longstrip pre-finished, with a 15 year warranty on the finish, lifetime on the structure. We got a good package deal from Carpet Empire Plus in Pasadena, who's doing carpet downstairs (Fabrica's Antigua, a frieze-style carpet in a dark café au lait color called Caribe), and they're providing flooring, labor and installation, quarter moldings, sills and threshholds, subfloor repair and door trimming for the same price as others had quoted for just materials and installation. It's gonna look great, and it'll ... almost be done by our desired move-in day. Not too bad. Thanks a bunch to all the folks who wrote in with advice and encouragement, especially Greg, Jennifer, Scott and Andrew. So long, Joe. Joe Strummer died yesterday, at age 50. (My first thought was, good lord ... Joe Strummer was 50?) Billy Bragg shares his thoughts on Joe's passing. The Clash woke me up when I was a 16-year-old college freshman and helped send me in a musical direction that was far removed from most of what I was listening to in high school. I was privileged to see him with The Clash as well as fronting The Pogues after Shane left the band. This morning, on a behemoth Los Angeles non-commercial radio station's popular morning pop music show that isn't at all eclectic, the host properly began the show by announcing a musical tribute to Joe Strummer ... then started off by playing two songs that featured Mick Jones on vocals. Gobshite. That's some Irish diaspora. The BBC World Service took a poll to ask listeners around the globe what their favorite song in the world was. The winner? Not The Beatles. Not anyone you might expect, in fact. It was "A Nation Once Again", a hoary old Irish republican standard, written in the 1840s to support the end of British rule in Ireland. The most popular recorded version was by the Wolfe Tones in 1964. Weird, weird, weird. It's not even a very good republican song, either. Jaysis. If you want to see the Top Ten Global Hit Parade, here it is, and it's really feckin' bizarre ... not because of the songs you don't recognize, but because of the ones you do:
1. A Nation Once Again, The Wolfe TonesIt's nice to see local hits being embraced over most of the American and Brit generated pop. I will shower eternal gratitude to whomever can burn me a CD of all these songs. Even the Cher one. I must hear the whole mix as it was chosen!
Out, damned Lott! Like a steam locomotive rollin' down the track, he's gone, gone, and nothin's gonna bring him back. (Well, he's still a Senator, but there's time to work on that, too.) The neat little troika of December resignations (Kissinger, Law, Lott) will make for a nice little extra Christmas present. Flooring follies. A decision has been made! (Well, sorta.) It'll definitely be new hardwood over the linoleum and old hardwood, and not a laminate product. The decision that still remains: do we buy 600 square feet of price-slashed, pre-finished liquidation flooring from Amigo's and have the $2.50/sq. ft. installer guy do it, thereby saving a pile of money, or do we hire one of the other (more expensive) installers we found who lay down unfinished red oak, then sand, then stain, then 3 coats of polyurethane finish? We need to decide by tomorrow, so if any of you have experience of pre-finished versus custom sanded/finished new hardwood floor installations, I'd love to hear from you.
Good to the last drip. Absinthe -- the real thing, not some wormwood twigs steeped in vodka, Gawd -- is on the way back, thanks to the amazing efforts of a New Orleanian chemist and absinthe connoisseur. Although its low-grade illegality seems to be a draw for many people, it's basically gotten a bad rap. It's not a drug any more than any alcoholic spirit is a drug; it's not a hallucinogen any more than alcohol is (Hello? Pink elephants, anyone?). It's a powerful herbal spirit awash in history and stunning in flavor, once it's made the way it's supposed to be made. And yes, the myriad herbs that go into its fabrication do have a combined effect on the body in addition to the alcoholic buzz (the herbal liqueur Fernet Branca, for instance, settles my upset stomach in three minutes), but it tends to be a heightened sense of clarity, apparently. As a fellow connoisseur of spirits I, for one, can't wait to try it. Drop dead, you redneck putz. To the male human (I decline to say "gentleman") sitting behind me at the Paseo Colorado Cinemas during the 8:00pm showing of "The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers" last night who kept making remarks and laughing at inappropriate moments throughout the film last night ... be grateful that I'm a peaceful human being, because if I weren't, you'd be dead now. I'd have killed you with my bare hands. Looking up! Looka! readers, friends and cow-orkers have been forwarding hints, suggestions, supplier and installer names to help relieve our hardwood floor problems; thanks especially to Dottie and George. We're off to Amigo's Carpet and Flooring Superstore tomorrow, who sell materials at hugely discounted rates and who have installers who come personally recommended for their expertise as well as their very affordable rates. We'll also be looking into Armstrong Swiftlock flooring as a possible do-it-yourself option. I feel better now! It also helped to have heat and hot water established today, 'cause that place was ice-cold. The lovely floor furnace got it positively balmy within about 10 minutes, though. Whoo!
Welcome to the joys of home ownership. After hours of backbreaking labor on my part (with a lovely blister on my palm just below my ring to show for it) only unveiled about four square feet of hardwood floor after scraping up the horrid old linoleum that some Evil Person had glued to it using an impossible-to-remove adhesive I've come to refer to as "The Black Death", and upon consultation by two flooring contractors, I've come to realize that removing the linoleum to refinish the floor is going to be well-nigh impossible. It'll cost me a fortune and will take weeks (actually, working by myself and at that rate it'll take me six months). It looks like we'll have to install new flooring over that, which adds another four grand to the flooring cost. Sigh. However, to cheer me up ... My precioussssss! We're seeing "The Two Towers" tonight! Woohoooo!
Go to Cuba with The Iguanas! Adventures in Rock, a travel agency that specializes in trips involving bands and their fans is organizing a trip with The Iguanas to Havana and Trinidad, Cuba for eight days beginning January 3, 2003. This is a cultural exchange with the Cuban band Mezcla, and they are great. The full itinerary and booking information can be found at http://adventuresinrock.com/iguanas.html or call (877) 788-7625. You can also also visit iguanas.com. This sounds like an amazing opportunity. The Iguanas are, of course, one of my very favorite bands, hailing from the Crescent City and blending New Orleans R&B, rock, Tex-Mex and more into a unique and wonderful sound. Mezcla blend Cuban son, jazz, rumba, Yoruba/Afro-Cuban sounds and nueva trova with elements of rock, blues, rap, reggae and souk (wow!). Deadline for signup is December 16, and that's Monday ... so check it out and sign up! Chuck scarcity as of today. Good thing I'm not triskaidekaphobic -- today Wes and I take possession of our new house. (Woohoo!!!) I'll be spending the next three weeks painting, scraping, sanding, flooring, tiling, packing and moving ... so there won't be much time for me to be doing much weblogging, if any. I'll try to check in with a few progress reports, but just in case -- Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year! Now, to begin my thirty years of debt ...
New York Times: Fire Trent Lott. Today's editorial minces no words.
There are 51 Republican members of the United States Senate. Surely they can find someone to be majority leader besides Trent Lott.Lott fucked up. Not for "misspeaking", but for making the mistake of saying what he really thought. The mask is off. Cue up Randy Newman's "Rednecks" ... Oh, and what a surprise ... in 1981 Trent Lott declared that "racial discrimination does not always violate public policy" as he tried to save the tax exemption of a Christian university that banned interracial dating. Even Shrub denounced him (although for purely political reasons; i.e., to make sure he and his agenda don't suffer any damage from Lott's remarks) but, predictably, North Carolina Senator, noted homophobic troll, fellow racist and hellbound rat-bastard Jesse Helms defended Lott's remarks. When Helms was a broadcaster he used that forum to defend owners of segregated businesses, condemned civil rights marchers, and as a Senator fought against the Martin Luther King holiday. Birds of a feather ... A toast! Here's to Judge Richard M. Berman! *clink* New York wine drinkers should be happy today. A federal judge ordered New York State yesterday to allow wineries in the rest of the country to ship wine directly to consumers in the state. Don't break out the special corkscrews too soon, though ... the state is going to appeal. It's ridiculous, really. That state law is protctionist and benefits nobody but wine wholesalers. Those guys can compete just like everyone else, and soon New Yorkers can partake of the joys of wineries that don't export their wares, like one of my favorites -- V. Sattui, in Napa Valley.
Food, glorious food: L.A.'s Top 10 Dishes. Good issue of the Los Angeles Times' Food Section today. Critic S. Irene Virbila goes over the best dishes that the city's restaurants have to offer, in her opinion ... with recipes! (userid/password = annoying/annoying) It's amazing how some of them are relatively simple dishes, but many times with simplicity and great ingredients lies elegance and perfection.
Appetizers:Jones. Last night I finished packing up all the glassware, including the cocktail glasses. Crap. I should have left at least one of them out. Tonight I'm packing up the liquor, too. I think I'll have to subsist on bottled beer for the next couple of weeks. There'll be lots of take-out, too. Friday, maybe tomorrow, we get the keys. I'll be on the edge of my seat until then. Just Me and My Racist Toupee. From Mark Morford, in the "Morning Fix":
Senate Republican leader and noted misogynist, racist, ungodly mama's boy, toupee abuser, and adorably flabby epitome of all that is dank and wrong with the conservative viewpoint Trent Lott, facing fierce criticism for more dumb remarks seeming to endorse the segregationist positions once held by crusty scrap of used shoe leather Sen. Strom "No One Knows Why I'm Still Alive" Thurmond, made nearly identical comments at a Mississippi rally with Thurmond more than two decades ago, because he's just that sort of execrable white meat.Sen. Lott wasn't available for comment, as he was reportedly busy affixing a "WHITES ONLY" sign to the water fountain outside his office door.
George W. Bush: Not a moron, but a sociopath? Creepy article by Bev Conover in the Online Journal, which looks beyond his image of the affable bumbler, and looks back to the man who as a boy used to torture and kill small animals:
The striking thing about this George, even though Karen Hughes is often seen hovering at his elbow, is that he isn't tongue-tied when he is pumping up his ego, dishing out digs and being sarcastic and crude.Exaggeration, or cause for worry? Food for thought, certainly. I for one have no difficulty believing in his lack of compassion and empathy, or his mindboggling sense of entitlement, for starters. Or that he is what the friends of Bill W. call a "dry drunk ".
Trent Lott and The Negro Problem. No, I don't mean Stew's most excellent band. In case you hadn't heard by now, Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott was, for some inexplicable reason, paying tribute to the retiring Senator Strom "Shouldn't He Have Died 25 Years Ago?" Thurmond, and I think Dr. Freud let him slip out some of his true feelings:
Speaking Thursday at a 100th birthday party and retirement celebration for Sen. Thurmond (R-S.C.) in the Dirksen Senate Office Building, Lott said, "I want to say this about my state: When Strom Thurmond ran for president, we voted for him. We're proud of it. And if the rest of the country had followed our lead, we wouldn't have had all these problems over all these years, either."Perhaps Sen. Lott might want to retire from the Senate and become David Duke's next presidential running mate. H minus four days. Today we went to the escrow office, and I signed my name 25 times; I also scrawled my initials 31 times. That, plus handing over an eye-poppingly large cashier's check ("Is that really my money I'm handing over?! Where the hell did all that come from?!") and waiting four days, I should then magically transmogrify into a homeowner. It'll be wonderful. I can't wait. I'll just try not to think about that staggeringly large debt that won't be paid off until 2033.
Cruel and unusual punishment. Boredom, wrestling and soap operas on TV all day, and worst of all, bad food -- former Louisiana governor Edwin Edwards describes life in federal prison. Poor béb´. Uh, I don't think McRazorblades is an official menu item. An 18-year-old McDonald's worker in Eunice, Louisiana (a town of which I'm an honorary citizen) got busted for placing razor blades in a Hot Apple Pie, and is now facing federal charges and 10 years in prison. Time for a little Cajun music -- cue Canray Fontenot's "Les Barres de la Prison" and "La Valse de Quatre Vingt Dix-Neuf Ans".
Just call me Two-Lunch Chuck, or Three-Dinner Taggart. Today's New York Times Food and Dining section features an excellent article about southwestern Louisiana cuisine and culture. I'm glad that the author gets the fact straight right from the start:
[T]he best Cajun cooking isn't blisteringly hot, contrary to popular belief. It's not about incinerating fish and meat. The guardians of regional tradition produce rich, slowly simmered soups and stews, more boldly flavored than most American food, yes, but not one-dimensional.Remember this: Cajun and Creole food isn't regular food that's encased in red pepper. If it's too hot to eat, it's ruined. A related article also points out something I've been trying to teach people for years -- don't go looking for Cajun food in New Orleans, which is not a Cajun city. It's there, but it's a fraction of what's to be found in New Orleans, which has its own related but very distinct Creole cuisine tradition. Again, you want the best Cajun food? Go to southwest Louisiana and eat at places like The Pig Stand in Ville Platte, or Robin's in Henderson, or Café des Amis in Breaux Bridge. (Thanks to Ray, Steve and Ryan for sending this in. I was too busy to read the NYT today, but between the three o' yas, I found it.) What's on your Permanent Record? Tom Tomorrow wonders the same thing, in his latest cartoon, which as usual makes you laugh while it makes you wonder. How much will the noted liar-to-Congress John Poindexter's Office of Total Information Awareness really want to know? Man, I used to subscdribe to Mother Jones when I was in college. I guess I'm fucked.
Keeping America safe from musicians. New "anti-terror" laws are also making life (and performing) very difficult for musicians from outside the United States. many of whom have had to cancel concerts:
Organizers of cultural events in the Bay Area and across the nation say they're being forced to cancel and change scheduled acts, squeezing the groups financially and depriving audiences of seeing acclaimed singers, filmmakers and other luminaries from foreign countries.Attorney General John Ashcroft: Enforcing the laws that suit him. From the Washington Post, it seems that our esteemed attorney general is once again being selective in enforcing this nation's laws, except for the ones he doesn't like:
Today, at the Justice Department, some laws are more equal than others.Sounds like "The Skulls". Except that was just a bad movie. This was real life, and even more disturbing.
What began in 1920 as an inquiry into a student's suicide ended in Harvard University convening a secret tribunal that labeled 14 men "guilty" of being homosexual, and forcing the students among them to leave not only the school, but the city of Cambridge.The file was actually labelled "secret court". Gee, glad those boys knew how to keep secrets. They could learn a thing or two from Skull and Bones. Fortunately, Harvard's administration has vehemently repudiated what happened, but it still sends a chill.
Get Your War On: "Henry Kissinger?!" The current edition of this brilliant online comic has outdone itself this time. I was thinking some of the very same things ... *urp* ... we are so goin' to hell. Well, if the sin of gluttony carries heavier penalties, that is. The Fat Pack convened yesterday for a Second Thanksgiving, and we feasted. There were a variety of starters, some of which were even good for us (crudites and dip), and then Diana produced the first bit of outrageousness -- bacon coated with brown mustard and brown sugar. Delectable little bits of bacon candy, that's what it tasted like. *inhale* We deep-fried a turkey, which was a smashing success, albeit with a few bumps in the road. For some reason, once the turkey was completely submerged in the boiling 350°F peanut oil, Steve decided to drop the deep fry thermometer into the pot, whereupon it sunk all the way to the bottom of the 30-quart pot. Um. Sounds like something I would have done. While Steve, Dave, Jon, Wes and I stood around scratching our heads over what to do, and after Jon stuck metal tongs into the boiling oil with ungloved hands ("I'm a welder! Three hundred fifty degrees is not hot!"), Jon's wife Aileen came to the rescue, deftly dipped the turkey lifter into the pot and immediately fished out the thermometer. In the midst of all these men she trumpeted her success to the world at large: "And who was it that managed to get the thing out of there? The drunk ... woman!" (Thank Gawd she was there.) [Disclaimer: Don't try this at home, folks. Fry the turkey, I mean, but wear gloves and don't drop the thermometer into the oil.) The turkey was the healthiest thing on the table. Side dishes included a spicy cornbread dressing filled with big chunks of andouille sausage; a potato-cheese-onion casserole thing topped with corn flakes and (yes, you guessed it) bacon; baked creamed corn, cut fresh from the cob and made with real cream (not that canned glop made in the factory in Smallville); my "macaroni and cheese" (the macaroni was rotini, and the cheese was over half a pound of gorgonzola); Opelousas Yam Crunch, a truly decadent dish from the monstrous talents of Sherl Picchioni, who until recently ran the Estorge House Bed and Breakfast in Opelousas (it's a private home again, unfortunately ... and as for the dish? It's a side dish! It's a dessert! It's a side dish! It's a dessert! *fight*). And for dessert? We wrapped candy bars -- Snickers, Dark Chocolate Milky Way, and 3 Musketeers -- in puff pastry and deep-fried them. Sprinkled 'em in powdered sugar. Hoo-boy. We are so goin' to hell. November Looka! entries have been permanently archived.
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