Sunday, November 30, 2008

it's snowing


It's snowing. It has snowed already in Chicago this year, but for some reason this feels like the first snow. My California cat is curled up into himself waiting out another winter, probably wondering what the hell he is doing here, instead of napping under the Berkeley lemon tree he liked so much. Now in our Chicago apartment, when the sun makes its rare appearance, desperate for some rays, he stretches out on the window sill trying to get a winter tan.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

joe onions

From the November 20th Providence Journal...

Body of Slain Mobster Unearthed in Riverside
The Rhode Island State Police yesterday unearthed what they believe are the remains of Joseph P. “Joe Onions” Scanlon, the onetime hood, police informant and victim of an infamous Rhode Island gangland slaying.

Half-Irish and half-Italian, Scanlon grew up in Hartford’s South End, then a predominantly Italian neighborhood of working-class families, tidy houses, corner markets and bakeries. Scanlon grew up to be a short-order cook at various Hartford restaurants.

Scanlon went to Providence, then the center of the New England rackets under Raymond L.S. Patriarca, and fell into a life of crime. But it all ended abruptly on April 3, 1978, with a bullet through the skull.

He had a winning personality, the family friend said, “and wasn’t so bad looking.” He was Joe Onions, she said, “because he made the girls cry.”

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

chicago baby

I met a little baby today. She was absolutely beautiful and made these really funny faces and weighs all of 6 pounds. As I was riding the CTA to work, staring out the window on all the brick and cement and hard surfaces, trying to wrap my head around Chicago, I almost can't imagine a delicate baby born in this city so indifferent–which is the one word I pick to represent Chicago. It's just too precarious a way to start off a new life.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

spain...on the road again

Slowly I've built my Sunday around "Spain...On the Road Again." I stumbled upon it once, and now it's part of my Sunday schedule. If you haven't seen it, it's about four people traveling around Spain gorging themselves on food and talking about it. The four people happen to be food writer Mark Bittman of the NYTimes (and the author of How to Cook Everything), chef Mario Batali, Gwyneth Paltrow, and a very beautiful Spanish actress, Claudia Bassols.

The show reminds me of a fantastic meal I had in Barcelona with three friends. We stumbled upon a tiny restaurant in the old part of the city, which was out of this world. We had fresh grilled calamari (the chef grilled the calamari in front of us) and these amazing potato tapas things with hot hot hot sauce. It was amazing. And the entire dinner cost like twenty bucks (this was before the dollar's decline.) I've never been able to get that meal out of my mind. But, now I can relive its essence every Sunday. How indulgent and utterly perfect it would be to travel around, primarily to eat. I can't help thinking, what an amazing gig, how the hell did they pitch this show?

Monday, November 17, 2008

a gate works both ways

As reported by Access Hollywood: Some of the rich people living in the Montecito, California mansions threatened by the most recent fire were stuck inside their gated compounds because their electric gates would not open.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

exquisite city



Today I went to the "Exquisite City" art show at the Viaduct Theater. A bunch of artists were asked to dream up a city block... the creations were then put together to make a "city." The exhibit was mostly comprised of miniatures and dioramas made out of cardboard - it was quite lovely.

There's something so fantastic about little things. I used to collect miniature chairs. One of the finest presents ever given to me was a miniature 70s sofa, presumably from a doll house.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

you're still beautiful

This was the scene in San Francisco when I arrived:

Hundreds of people were lounging in Dolores Park enjoying the sunshine. Bikes were strewn across the park, tossed aside by their riders who were laying in the grass laughing with friends. I walked through the mission and crowds of people were strolling through closed-off alleys taken over by music festivals, block parties, and really free markets. The air was clear, and electric, and full of possibility; as if the entire city was celebrating a secret holiday. It was like one of Mona Caron's murals.

I was amazed because everyone looked so damn happy. Giddiness, joyfulness, dreaminess, hung like ornaments in the air. I stood in Dolores Park laughing, because it seemed like a farce. A joke. A bad joke. That here in this city, was joyful life–like I had not seen in a long time–like out of a story book. Yet, I knew this was an aberration, and that often San Francisco is cold and foggy and things can feel hopeless here too, just like anywhere. But where I live now – in gray, sullen Chicago is such a stark contrast, that I had to laugh at the fates. And the realization of what I had walked away from. Beautiful San Francisco.

Monday, November 10, 2008

the old me


How can a person live without this view? To glimpse something so large that it can not be fully grasped makes it easy to slough off the tiny everyday problems that weigh us down. I was thrilled to be back in the bay area for a little while. I drank up the sunshine and the ocean, and I re-visited some friends I hadn't seen in a long time. When unpacking my bag, the few things I brought back smelled like incense, and I thought, somehow the tie-dyed witchy lady in Bolinas, slipped some magic into my bag, because I suddenly felt like the old me.

Sunday, November 09, 2008

score


I scored these cowboy boots on my birthday at a clothing swap at someone else's birthday party. I've always wanted cowboy boots.

Saturday, November 08, 2008

backyard chickens and horse mugs

It was incredibly dreary today. Dark and really cold. We spent the morning warm inside a church basement taking a workshop on backyard chickens. There were a couple of live chickens there clucking away. You can raise two basic kinds of chickens: "layers" for eggs, and "broilers" for meat. I was surprised when one of the first questions was "Can you eat the layers once they stop laying?" Apparently, they are tough, so you can only use them for soup stock. Which seems a sad demise for a creature that has provided you with so much protein over its short egg-producing life.

The second part of the day was spent at The Sweden Shop and the Tre Kronor restaurant which was a birthday treat. I heart the Sweden Shop, it has all this Marimekko stuff which I can't afford, but love to look at. I did indulge in an imported Swedish "Dala" horse" mug–I used to have one of those small wooden horses as a child.

Friday, November 07, 2008

to twitter or not to twitter

I wonder if I should be using Twitter. How would I know what to twitter? How to weigh if something is important enough, or just the right amount of unimportant, yet funny, or amusing. Or not too funny and amusing, not enough to make it seem like you're trying way too hard to be funny and amusing. But, like you're naturally irreverently funny. Online writing is so stressful and full of really strange expectations. This blog gives me enough stress. I can't even make myself write about things that have happened lately that I think is important to note, like Paul Newman and Studs Terkel passing. Or the strange Obama-mania in Chicago. Online writing is not easy for naturally obsessive analytical self-conscious types, of which I am one.

Wednesday, November 05, 2008