Ever Been Hit In the Neck by A Paint Ball?

UPDATE: Junot Diaz (see last bullet) wins Pulitzer Prize for The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. I met Junot at Cornell and while we're no more than distant acquaintances, I'm feeling awfully proud of him right now.

Diaz's reaction as reported in the Miami Herald:

''I'm completely astonished,'' says Díaz, 39, who heard the news at his mom's house in New Jersey while holding his ''good luck charm'' -- his 2-year-old nephew. ``For a Dominican kid with illegal parents to win a Pulitzer, a kid who grew up in New Jersey in a neighborhood where nobody gave a sh-- about us, a kid who delivered pool tables throughout college . . . wow, man.''

Original Post: I have. It's not lethal but it stings!

Sup y'all. We're deep in the '08 campaign and I haven't said shit about shit. Too busy getting drunk. No lie. I don't know what's going on but I've been going through even the dusty bottles in liquor cabinet (liquor cabinet being the retarded cabinets above the fridge that are a pain in the ass to reach). Apple Bacardi (a freebie bottle from a distributor friend - I swear), Sambuca - (with three coffee beans per glass for good luck - as if I believe in luck), a bottle of Cabinet's Choice single malt scotch (which prominently features a portrait of Winston Churchill - a peaty reminder of the shortfalls of our current leadership), Grey Goose (a recent gift and one night project), a killer bourbon (Bulleit for those in the market), several bottles of wine including a 2002 Spanish Merlot that rocked despite its Merlotness, and which I have no recollection of buying, and some less than full bottles of Stoli and Jack. After all this boozing, things are getting pretty bleak. I'm down to some Martini and Rossi, Jose Cuervo, and a nice Tequila I purchased in Mexico but which I am finding hard to tackle (Aha Toro). Might be time for an intervention ...

Enough of that pity party, I promised paint ball splatters:

• I caught the Amp Fiddler show at the Highline Ballroom Friday night and wouldn't ya know, Tortured Soul also performed. Both acts rocked and there was much boozing.
• Speaking of music, I was browsing through some of the 50 gigs of music my brother Dennis put on my hard drive when I came across It's Never Been Like That, the 2006 release by Phoenix. I likey. The haters would argue I like them because they're French ...
  
• Check out a new blog friend - the Supercynic - a voice of reason from below the Mason Dixon.
• Hey you poor people out there, will you be spending your stimulus checks, or paying bills/saving? Big D says that Louie bag you're eying was probably made in China so get it from Canal St. and save your money! The Iraq War and the expansion of the surveillance state are often cited as the signature policies of the Bush presidency but wouldn't you agree that this pandering third grade level stimulus package encompasses everything you need to know about our boy George? Depressing, I think I need to pour myself a Cabinet's Choice.
  
• I'm hoping to have enough Thank You points from Citibank to take a free trip to Buenos Aires this fall. Who's down? Argentina is one country that's still pretty cheap for us with Dollars.
• Speaking of Dollars, I was in Macy's today when a tourist from Australia stepped up to the cash register. The sales clerk informed him that as a visitor, he could save an additional 15% by getting a visitor's pass from the office one floor below. He considered for a split second and then responded he was saving plenty as it was. Oh mighty Dollar, how far you have fallen.
  
• On the cooking front I've been working on my braising technique - to great success I may add - the past few months. The latest, chicken with Rosemary and olives slow cooked in the oven with white wine and chicken stock until falling off the bone (a variation of this Rabbit recipe). Wow. I just realized that I may be the world's worst person; I regularly talk about my cooking but rarely share it. Take my word for it, if I ever invited you over for dinner, it would be pretty good.
• As this is a book review site (lol!), I may as well give a couple of recommendations since there is little chance of a review these days. First, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, the critically acclaimed novel by Junot Diaz that lived up to the hype. Some cute feminists I know recommended Nervous Conditions by Tsitsi Dangarembga and I am happy to spread the word. Great reads each of them.
  

Until the booze runs out ...

Right On Cue ...

The Onion reports on the grave threat facing Fort Greene.

Weekend That Was

Friday

Domino's pizza (bacon AND ham - so wrong but so right) and the Dog Whisperer. It was a long week and I was tired. Ok?

Saturday

As I mentioned a couple of posts ago, I've been going through the 50 gigs of music my brother Dennis recently "loaned" me. The band of the week this past week was Los Amigos Invisible and their 1998 release The New Sound of the Venezuelan Gozadera. Numerous friends over the years have raved about them but I hadn't given them much of a chance until now. It didn't take many listens for me to get hooked and I thought, I need to see these guys next time they're playing in the city (this thought occurred Thursday). Friday night I mentioned the band to a friend who though unfamiliar with their music, said "they're playing this weekend, this Venezuelan guy I work with is going to see them." No lie, this really happened. So Saturday night yours truly joined the amped crowd at the Bowery Ballroom and had a hell of a time (and one or two drinks ...) enjoying one of my new favorite bands. Visit their website for a nice selection of tracks. Requisite camera phone photo below:


Sunday

I decided the best way to deal with my hangover (might of had more than one or two at the show), was to get out of the house and check out the Brooklyn Flea. The Flea is the creation of the people behind Brownstoner. Dumb move on several levels. First, as we all know, only more alcohol cures a hangover. Second, and more important, browsing overpriced and overly precious second hand goods with hipsters has never helped anyone. I don't want to be that cynical guy who shits on a good idea just because it isn't my bag, but wow, it sucked. I zipped through the entire site in 10 minutes and left. I originally planned on hitting the gym after the Flea but truthfully, my headache and the sight of so many hipsters was too much to overcome. I ended up walking home - a hair under 4 miles according to map my run - passing a packed Olea on the way. Super hungry when I arrived home, I popped some popcorn on the stove while the rib eye I seasoned before leaving the house warmed up to room temperature. A simple side of sauteed onions, garlic, mushrooms and green beans, and a romaine lettuce and tomato salad rounded out the meal.

Planet B Boy - More Than Meets The Cardboard

Whenever I visited NYC as a kid in the late 70's and early 80's, I relished each subway ride for the opportunity to gawk at the wonderful graffiti artwork that covered trains in that era. It was so New York, so cool - I never doubted its artistic merit. Breaking was another NYC product that captivated my imagination - I could barely do the dolphin, but I could dream (add MCing and DJing and you have Hip Hop). Last weekend I caught an early screening of Planet B Boy at the Landmark Sunshine Theater. Planet B Boy is a documentary about B Boys, aka break dancers - from their South Bronx roots to an annual international competition in Germany where a kaleidoscope of humanity is brought together through a love of Hip Hop. The film is wonderfully shot and edited and is a showcase for much more than moves that will make your jaw drop. The director, Branson Lee, a Korean American former B-Boy himself, has true passion and respect for the subject matter and the film delves more deeply into its character's lives than you have any right to expect. Not unlike other urban art forms that preceded it, it's through the work of someone from outside the original community that the depth of Hip Hop is revealed. First below is the official trailer, the second clip is not related to the film but contains some dope footage so enjoy!

A Clinton Hill Resident Eats

Olea - By Tra B:

When I first moved to Clinton Hill about eight years ago, there was a nice little restaurant named “A Table” – the phrase French mothers use to call their families to the dinner table – about three blocks from my apartment. We went there a few times and thought the food decent enough to explain its being full most of the time. When it suddenly closed about three years later, we were more than a little surprised and felt like we’d lost an acquaintance; there was brief period of reflection followed not long after by acceptance. I’d always hoped that a quality produce shop would open up in its place but when I learned that it would be another restaurant, I quickly lost all interest. Even though I’ve passed it at least three times a week since it opened a few years ago, I never checked the menu or gave it much thought.

So on roughly my two-hundredth pass-by last week, I was desperately in the mood for some soup and very short on time. I actually walked past before deciding that it was really my only option. One cup of butternut squash soup later and I was suggesting to my wife that we make a point of grabbing a meal there.

Enter Brooklyn Restaurant Week. Three courses for $23 per person ($38 with wine service). The pre fixe menu:

Appetizer - Serrano ham with frisee and bleu cheese or crab meat with? (forget the details b/c crab meat generally turns my stomach)

Main Course – Lamb Shank with mashed turnip and wilted escarole or Rock Shrimp Risotto

Dessert – Blueberry Lemon Tart with Raspberry Sorbet or Assorted Cheese plate

I not so much asked my wife if she’d like to go as told her she’d need to make reservations. When she hesitated – would’ve done it myself but I was cooking at the time – I reminded her again. She was on the phone a little later and we were all set. Fast forward to the other night.

Surprisingly for Restaurant Week, the whole menu was on offer in addition to the pre fixe choices – not always the case - so we added a myrtleberry margarita and some herbed goat cheese croquettes to our tab. Both were fine choices, especially the croquettes. As for the rest of the meal, I opted for the ham, lamb, and tart; my wife the ham, shrimp, and cheese plate. The Serrano ham was, well, Serrano ham - salty, pungent, and um, good. Frisee is nasty any which way you cut it and should remain rooted firmly in the ground for animals to graze on. The tender, buttery lamb shank in either a wine or balsamic glaze was delectable; perhaps they’d tapped Big D for his newly perfected braising technique. Both the escarole and turnip were just a little too salty and sweet, respectively, for my taste buds but not enough by any stretch to ruin the meal. As excellent as the tart was, the raspberry sorbet was better and the perfect end to an extremely satisfying meal.

I tasted a bit of my wife’s risotto, which was pretty good as well, but by the time she offered up some cheese from her dessert plate, I’d just appreciated the last spoonful of my raspberry sorbet and there was absolutely no way I was ending the culinary portion of my evening any other way.

Olea - www.oleabrooklyn.com - is located on the corner or Lafayette and Adelphi Avenues (171 Lafayette Avenue) in the Clinton Hill/Fort Greene section of Brooklyn.

When A Six Figure Salary Isn't Enough ...

Fresh out of law school in 1998 I naively thought my $110,000 annual salary would make renting an apartment a breeze. I targeted a newly constructed building on the lower East Side that did not require a broker's fee. The $1,600 monthly rent kept me well below the 40 X salary formula the building used to qualify prospective tenants. But as anyone who has ever rented in New York knows, it's never that simple. Despite my salary and credit history, the building required a guarantor. Considering that my salary made me the highest paid person in my entire extended family, there was no one I could turn to. I fumed as I watched recent college grads earning a fraction of my salary breeze through the application process and get apartments on the strength of their parent's finances while my protestations fell on deaf ears. Thankfully, it worked out fine in the end, I moved to and fell in love with Brooklyn and saved a lot of money, but I wouldn't have minded the option of using a service like Insurent. Insurent is an institutional guarantor that for a fee between 4.5% and 11% of your annual rent, will guaranty your lease. It's not clear how many buildings participate in this program, but it seems like an idea that could take off in New York. When even lawyers at fucking White Shoe law firms can't rent a fucking apartment in this town without a fucking guarantor (about how I felt back then), I'd say the need is clear. And from a landlord's perspective, an institutional guarantor seems no more risky than an individual guarantor. For those willing to pay the premium, Insurent might be the ticket to scoring that killer $2500 studio.

Play That Funky Music

I first heard Tortured Soul on a DJ Spinna mix tape several years ago that I found on Milk Audio. Not long thereafter I serendipitously discovered they'd be playing at Southpaw, a Park Slope music venue. Their energy, throwback style, and overall vibe were a big hit with me. This past Wednesday it all came full circle as they once again performed at Southpaw. Let's see, great local band. Check. Amped up crowd. Check. Free Admission. Awesome. Whiffs of ganj in the air (sadly as close as I come to the stuff these days). Hearing new jams along with the ones you know well. Super Duper. These skinny tie wearing white boys jam some seriously good house/soul/funk. If you weren't watching them play live you'd think they were a synthed up studio band - the amount of sound these guys generate is pretty wild. Their music is fun, danceable, and even better live where the guys get to show their chops as musicians.

[not a bad shot for a camera phone in a dark room huh?]

Not Usually

Do you dress like a Douchebag?

Apparently Can Out Bench Me

Meet Lil' Romeo, the world's smallest bodybuilder

3rd Time ... And More to Come?

The photo you're looking at is of my Xbox 360 in dreaded "Red Rings of Death" mode. These red lights means your system is FUBAR; in Microsoft parlance, you've suffered a hardware failure (according to some retailers, the failure rate is over 30% compared to less than 1% for the playstation 3). It's my third time, lucky me. You call the repair hot line, walk through some pointless troubleshooting, a week or so later you get a box in which to mail the 360 to the service center, and then depending on the backlog, you get an 360 back in two to four weeks. You might receive your actual xbox back or it might be a refurbished unit. Fun. The two prior failures cost me almost two months of down time; the first unit they returned to me failed in one day and had to be sent back! There are legions of unhappy folks out there who have it even worse than me; this guy has gone through the dance 12 times. Microsoft, after denying there was a problem, generously extended warranty coverage for three years. Until the next unit arrives I guess air guitar is going to have to substitute for Guitar Hero - what a rip.

My Mom Is Not Wealthy ...

Update: I got the idea to take these photos from a feature in Andrew Sullivan's blog called "the view from your window." Anyone interested in submitting the view from theirs?

But she does have million dollar views. The Buffalo Light House, Naval Park, and Lake Erie from her living room, and downtown Buffalo from the roof of her building.

Words With Pictures Rescued Big D

Late last summer I picked up Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie, what a mistake. No book in recent history has done more to disinterest me in reading. I struggled to get through each chapter, usually giving up after a few pages, my mind closed to words no matter their pedigree. I finished Midnight's Children after four grueling months, determined to keep the number of books that have gotten the better of me to the handful that already exist. And like a prisoner walking free after a long incarceration, I couldn't wait to get back into action, not with hookers at the point, but with easy reads. My remedy? Graphic novels. Don't get me wrong, I'm looking forward to reading and reviewing several meaty novels that have been collecting dust while I traversed Rushdie's India. Until then, here are some writers and artists that might be worth getting to know.

Stop Forgetting to Remember, The Autobiography of Walter Kurtz by Peter Kuper (2007) – I loved this book. Walter Kurtz is the author’s alter ego: the main character and narrator of Kuper’s riotously funny coming of age novel/memoir. Kuper follows Kurtz through the main traumas and triumphs of his life, namely, trying and failing to get laid as a teenager, becoming a father, and pursuing success as an artist and writer. Kuper is a great writer and artist and as much fun as I had reading this I also felt that much of what he conveys would ring true for most people for whom growing up has been a topsy turvy ride. Graphically Kuper’s style is whimsical and rich. A close examination of each cel often reveals clever puns, and references to other comics, art, and books; the more carefully you look, the more you will find.

Chance In Hell by Gibert Hernandez (2007) - Hernandez’s work is steeped in magical realism, I’m told. In this case I found the magic confusing and the realism a bit too depressing. Chance in Hell is the story of the discarded in our society, in particular, it’s the story of a young girl named Empress who lives in a garbage dump where she is at turns violated by the opportunistic, and protected by the equally violent. Eventually Empress is adopted by a seemingly well meaning man but she seems no happier in her new life than her old. She consorts with a teenage pimp, hangs out with whores and johns – because those are whom she feels most comfortable with I presume. Throughout each stage of her life, from the days in the dump through her days as a married woman, happiness continues to be elusive. The book’s ending left me scratching my head and wondering what I missed. Graphically, Hernandez’s style is dark, violent, and abstract.

The Dark Tower, The Gunslinger Born by Stephen King (2007) – This highly stylized graphic novel is based on the series of novels by Stephen King but is written and illustrated by artists from Marvel comics. Not having read the novels, the obviously abbreviated story presented in the graphic novel didn’t bother me, however, as is often the case when novels are adapted into other forms, fans of the original work may feel the deviations from the original are too great. This is a western gothic epic that features truly evil bad guys and a clan of gunslingers determined to thwart them. The action is intense, the blood flows freely, and fantasy and reality freely swap places in a fun and exciting read.

Shortcomings by Adrian Tomine (2004-2007) – Adrian Tomine writes quirky modern graphic novels that deal with the issues of young urban adults, in this case a young Asian American couple, Ben and Miko, headed for splitsville. The novel’s other primary character is Ben’s unlikely best friend, Alice. Ben has a thing for white women, and a lot of insecurity about where he was shorted in the gene pool, if you know what I’m saying. Miko is aware of his wandering eyes, and is in a way liberated by it. The dialogue in this novel is top notch; realistic, funny, irreverent, and insightful. The artwork is clean, detailed, and easy to follow.

The Boondocks, All The Rage by Aaron McGruder (2007) – This collection includes strips run between December 2004 through December 2006, transcripts of interviews given by McGruder between 1999 and 2006, and before and after versions of particularly controversial strips that McGruder was forced to revise due to their sensitive or inflammatory nature. Overall, a must have addition to any Boondocks fan’s collection.

Essence du New Jersey

More of these Jersey douchebags here

Ha

(thanks Kurtis)

All Hail The Mac

When buying computers I've often always been guided by price. Apple computers, pretty though they are, have always seemed too expensive. Additionally, as someone who likes to tinker with my tech, pc's offered options that Apple intentionally foreclosed. But times and my attitude are changing. Headache free operation is worth a lot and as for tinkering, been there, done that. If what I'm seeing among family, friends, and co-workers is any indication, I'm not alone. Apple is doing a heck of a job swaying folks like myself with a simple message of rock solid reliability, pc like processing power, and unsurpassed design. MacWorld, the annual Apple showcase begins Tuesday and the tech world is abuzz. Will this be the year Apple introduces a super thin and light notebook? What new improvements can we expect to the iphone? What new enhancements to the Apple operating system (this, btw, is what really separates macs from pcs) will further widen the gap between it and Windows? What new relationships with media content providers will be unveiled? We'll soon find out and though I hope my current Dell lasts a while longer, when it goes, I'm going with it straight to Apple. (More rumors here)

I Bet It Tasted Like Crap

Many of you have probably seen this but the sheer audacity of it requires a second look. Princess culture at its most idiotic. Get the details here.

Cuba – Fun place … for a drink

The singer/guitarist and congero playing when we dined at Cuba on a Friday night were excellent. But loud. I enjoyed the live music but if you want a somewhat quieter meal, ask to be seated downstairs. Though cozy in size, Cuba is not necessarily the place you’d go for a cozy meal.

The musicians weren’t the only entertainment. Seated prominently by the window – and successfully catching the eyes of passerbys on the street – a man rolled fresh cigars. It was never explained to us but I think the cigars could be had for a small gratuity. Had it been warmer I may have taken one, but not envisioning a time or place to smoke a cigar in the near future, I passed.

The menu features dressed up versions of traditional latin favorites like arroz con pollo, papa rellenos, and camarones al ajillo, among other dishes. Between the music and the cigars, there’s a hint of theme restaurant, sadly, the food adds to the impression.

We shared the coconut shrimp and stuffed tostones to start, the grilled Mahi Mahi and butterflyed sirloin steak for entrees. Three of our four dishes featured a garnish of some sort of Caribbean mashed root vegetable. Whatever it was, there was too much of it. Even the tostones were nothing to write home about. The food wasn’t bad it just wasn’t particularly great. New York is a city with lots of Latin food options, and in my opinion many less expensive choices I’ve tried are better.

Perhaps cost is the wrong lens through which to view Cuba. The prices at Cuba weren’t especially high by New York standards, and as part of your dining experience you are treated to live music and a fun festive atmosphere. But much like this review, the food may be the last part of your experience you talk about.

Cuba is located on Thompson Street between Bleecker and West 3^rd. Dinner for two with two appetizers, two entrees, a pitcher of Sangria and one desert came to about $100 before tip.

Old Is New ... and Delicious

Chimichurri Grill describes itself as Nuevo Argentine Cuisine. I suppose that comes from dishes like their Churrasco which features thinly pounded Filet Mignon instead of the more typical thicker cut of steak.

Nuevo or viejo, Chimichurri Grill is a winner. Like many restaurants in this part of Hell’s Kitchen, the dining room is cozy. Unlike other similarly sized places, it didn’t feel small despite a veritable army of servers and bus boys.

To start we shared an empanada filled with Swiss Chard and Manchego cheese, and a tortilla which to my surprise was served warm rather than cold (tapas on the brain I suppose). Each was tasty and Immersing ourselves further into the flavors of Argentina we ordered a reasonably priced Malbec.

Our entrees consisted of the Entraña (skirt steak) and the Churrasco. The menu offered a few seafood, chicken and pasta dishes but the grilled steaks were primary.

Chimichurri Grill is located on 9^th Avenue between 43^rd and 44^th Streets. Dinner for two consisting of two appetizers, two steak entrees, a $50 bottle of wine, and one desert came to approximately $135 before tip.

Perhaps I Spoke Too Soon?

Trumping Bologna gum might just might be the Twodaloo ... I do not want. Ever.

What Better Way to Start 2008?

Than with some bologna gum? I can't think of any. I'm back. Let's make it a good one people!

Closed For Fall

If the lack of posts here haven't made it clear, this blog and its scribe are on hiatus. I have chosen to supsend rather than terminate my "work" on this site. I look forward to returning in earnest early next year as the primary season heats up. The verbal Macarena our candidates engage in is just the hook I need to get me back up and running. In the meanwhile I plan to catch up on my reading (Absurdistan and Midnight's Children at the moment), dominate my fantasy football leagues, and maybe even generate a few book and restaurant reviews. Until then, see ya.

Shufflin' Off

As some of you know, today is my last day at W&S. I had no expectations for this gig when I started, 14 months later I find myself leaving one of the best 'jobs' I've had. The work was substantive; I learned new things and got to brush up on some old skills, the choice to bill crazy hours - or not - was mine alone, and though the pace and pressures of the practice made some people behave a little poorly at times, it was a good group of people to work with. When I left my last permanent job in 2001, this was exactly the type of temp gig I hoped to find. I'll consider myself fortunate if my next assignment is anything like this one.

Before I jump into the next assignment, however, a little R&R is in order. I'm shuffling off to Buffalo and Ft. Lauderdale over the next two weeks. See the family and catch some sun (hopefully). Do some outlet mall shopping (its the little things people), spoil the niece and nephew a bit, chill.

Enjoy what's left of summer.

Big D

I'm No Travis Ruse ...

But every now and then I see something on the subway that requires me to pull out the old camera phone. In this case, seeing this OG rocking this hat made me want to say, I ain't mad at you playa. Praise Jah and have a great weekend everybody!

A House Built On Sand ...

Monument Valley

My attempt at re-creating Monument Valley with Photoshop (below).