Whew! That was a busy couple of weeks, and I didn’t do anywhere as much traveling as McD. I didn’t keep great notes and so I’m going to break with tradition and go in somewhat of a reverse chronological order.
We spent the weekend with four other couples at something called the “Celebrity Dream Estate” in Rancho Santa Fe, CA. This was a very fancy place and one of the few to be found that had five bedrooms and bathrooms. Rancho is about 30 minutes north of San Diego and is located in the hills above the Pacific Ocean. Here are some pictures of the place:
We arrived on Friday afternoon, picked up supplies, and then spent a pleasant evening catching up with everyone. Saturday began with a run and walk for D and me, while most of the group went hiking by the coast. The roads were quite hilly and narrow – not completely ideal for running – but a good test for us. The first test was how to get out of the coded gate from the inside without the weight of a car on the sensor pad. We managed to squeeze through and later learned of a code box hidden on a fence post. The driveway is very long.
We did pass Diana’s new estate on our run – just missing a “g”.
Saturday afternoon was spent relaxing by the pool, followed by a lovely dinner at “Pamplemousse” – a highly recommended local restaurant in Solana Beach. I really enjoyed my Duo of Game – a Venison Chop Au Poivre and Lemon Thyme Marinated Quail. This was the waiter’s number one recommendation and I’m glad I followed his lead.
Sunday was my favourite day of the trip. We met Campbell and Molly for lunch at a great Mexican restaurant and then walked across to Cardiff State beach, timing it just perfectly so that the awning and chairs were fully set up by the advance party. Diana was very adventurous with jumping the waves – most of which were several feet taller than her. I’m glad I joined to provide a tiny bit of supervision. Campbell and Molly came back to the house and played games with the crew, while Merry Lee enjoyed watching Campbell’s mannerisms that she thought were doubles of mine.
A really good trip and I know Diana enjoyed catching up with her girlfriends.
This was her second trip out to California in two weeks. She took her Mom back home last week. Clorinda was happy to get back to her grandkids.
Alicia flew back last Thursday and they were able to visit her new University (also Clorinda’s alma mater).
The weather has become quite boisterous as I’m tying this – lots of thunder and the torrential rain that I’ve only experienced in Texas. My new 6 inch gutters in the back patio are passing this test with flying colours – no overspill at all – much better than the old 4 inch variety. Diana is not going to enjoy her drive to the dentist much though.
While Clorinda was with us for a couple of months, Caroline had made a project of organizing her clothes. Diana enjoyed making some videos of her Mom telling stories about the dresses, when she made them, and where she wore them. And then the fun started as Diana decided to model a couple of her favourites.
Finn started work earlier in the week in the produce department at Market Street (a high end grocery store 2 miles from our home). He’s enjoying it and seems to be doing well in the eyes of his managers.
After I dropped him one morning, I finally tried the Del Sur Taco counter that’s inside a Shell station across from Market Street. Folks rave about their breakfast tacos, and they were very good. Looking forward to another visit soon. I know Denny would like all the Mexican wrestling masks.
I’m loving Mark Ronson’s Apple TV+ series “Watch the Sound”.
The episode on synthesizers had a great piece on a BBC engineer, Delia Derbyshire, who came up with the original Dr. Who theme song using a series of oscilloscopes and wave shapers. Each episode so far has been very interesting and educational.
Here’s a new song from saxophonist Chris Potter with the fantastic James Francies on keyboards and bass pedals:
I watched a film called “You’re Not You” sometime over the last fortnight and really enjoyed it. Hilary Swank’s character (and I’m really not usually a fan) is a classical pianist who has ALS. The story revolves around her relationship with the brash college student, hired as a caregiver, who ends up being wonderful for her. I enjoyed seeing some of the Houston musical hotspots like the sister to Austin’s wonderful Continental Club.
I read “Clever Girl” by Tessa Hadley over the last week or so. Having really enjoyed a short story from Hadley in the New Yorker, I thought I would give this a try.
Here’s a synopsis review:
“Clever Girl is an indelible story of one woman’s life, unfolded in a series of beautifully sculpted episodes that illuminate an era, moving from the 1960s to today, from one of Britain’s leading literary lights—Tessa Hadley—the author of the New York Times Notable Books Married Love and The London Train.
Like Alice Munro and Colm Tóibin, Tessa Hadley brilliantly captures the beauty, innocence, and irony of ordinary lives—an ability to transform the mundane into the sublime that elevates domestic fiction to literary art.”
My review would not be as effusive. The first half was a real struggle, and I got some enjoyment from the second half. Just not my thing – too much hippie commune stuff. I only enjoyed the last few chapters when the “Clever Girl” reaches my age.
Stay safe, kind and sensible in the increasingly nutty environment!
Finn and I picked up Alicia from the airport on Monday. We stopped at the Blue Goose in Grapevine on the way home. I enjoyed my usual sour cream chicken enchiladas and Finn had combination fajitas. Alicia was good and had some kind of healthy salad. Oh, almost forgot – we tried something new – the goose eggs appetizer, jalapenos stuffed with shredded chicken and cheese. They were delicious and pleasantly spicy. Let’s have those again soon.
Grammie was very happy to have Alicia back in McKinney.
We watched the Olympics in the evening – situation normal during Grammie’s visit. She became such a sports nut. I was amazed at the British synchronized diving team – Tom Daly and Matty Lee. They looked like a single diver from the side angle – just excellent and not surprising that they won the gold medal.
Alicia took Finn on an outing to bowl at Pinstack on Tuesday – it’s nice for him to have someone around to hang out with during the day when we’re working. Alicia’s friend had given them a bunch of tokens that Finn deployed to win three stuffies from the claw game that I thought never allowed anyone to win – a hidden talent.
Wednesday brought a couple of pieces of good news – Finn passed his final interview for the job he wants (just the background check and orientation now), and travel restrictions to the UK eased for vaccinated US travelers – no quarantine required now. Hoping that holds until our visit.
The Olympic highlight was Finke’s acceleration in the final lap of the 1500 meter freestyle swim to go from 5th place to 1st. My favourite Olympic moment so far.
We attended the funeral service for Stanley John Bassett via livestream on Wednesday night. A really meaningful service and we were so glad to be able to participate from so far away. Vilma and their two daughters did a lovely job eulogizing Stan. They played this song as folks were leaving the chapel – hadn’t heard it in so many years. I remember when it was popular as the theme song to the Watership Down movie.
Alicia joined us for a show at the Kessler on Thursday night while Finn kept Clorinda company watching the Olympic gymnastics finals. We kept with our pre-concert ritual of dinner at Nova. Diana burger, Thai cauliflower with noodles for me, and Moroccan chicken for Alicia – quite the eclectic international mix.
Robert Ellis is a quite different performer who was based in Austin until recently (moved to Fort Worth, and I’m sure because Austin is becoming way too expensive for musicians.) He alternates between ironically funny, and very poignant songs on guitar and piano. Here’s one of his more popular songs – an ode to the sparkling water Topo Chico:
Ellis had the first three songs organized and then relied on audience requests. One entertaining moment occurred when someone requested “Two Cans of Paint.” “I don’t remember the guitar part to that.” “I can play it,” from an audience member. “Who is that?” “It’s Stacy.” “My friend Stacy – come on down and play a song for us.” Apparently Ellis had met Stacy on his last visit to the Kessler. She played a beautiful song.
Here’s another song from Ellis, “When You’re Away”:
The lineup of talent in the next month or so at the Kessler is very impressive. I think musicians really love playing there.
Diana traveled back to California with Clorinda on Saturday. She’ll stay for a week and get everything organized with new local doctors. I’m “supervising” Finn and Alicia solo now. I took a break from the Olympics on Saturday night and finished a movie I started a few weeks ago. “Our Friend,” starring Casey Affleck, Dakota Johnson, and Jason Segel, is not an uplifting, positive movie but the acting is first class.
The “kids” were quickly on board when I suggested Velvet Taco for lunch on Sunday. I’m not sure if it moved since Brent and I visited last, prior to auditioning speakers at Audio Concepts, but it wasn’t exactly where I remembered. I tortured Finn and Alicia with a visit to Interrabang books after lunch – and it had certainly moved – all the way to Lovers Lane and the other side of the tollway. The new store is smaller and I couldn’t find anything that caught my fancy at all. On prior visits I’ve come away with three or four new books. Maybe I just wasn’t in the right mood.
There was another baking adventure on Sunday evening. Lemon and blueberry cookies with cream cheese frosting was the product this time. The teamwork was solid and Clorinda is working on convincing Alicia to bring some when she returns to California later this week.
Will had his car at the track again over the weekend and was excited to share some pictures of the new trim – not exactly sure what’s new but it does look very fancy.
There’s a new music technology show out on Apple TV. Mark Ronson hosts a show called “Watch the Sound”, and I’ve been enjoying it with my elliptical workouts. The episode on reverb was fascinating. I had just read in my Robbie Robertson autobiography (more below) about the fantastic reverb available from the concrete chambers underneath the Capitol records recording studios in Los Angeles, and sure enough that was one of the places Ronson visited. That and a massive, abandoned diesel tank in Scotland that is rumored to have the longest reverb in the world.
“Testimony”, Robbie Robertson’s autobiography has been my companion this week. What a fascinating account from an amazing musician who had a front seat to so many musical highlights – backing up Bob Dylan when he went electric, and witnessing Jimi Hendrix first shows in New York to name just a couple. I remember first watching “The Last Waltz”, Scorsese’s movie about The Band’s farewell concert, in university and being completely amazed at the level of musicianship. The book is over 500 pages long and I haven’t quite finished yet.
On first meeting Levon Helm, one of my very favourite musicians:
“In the center of it all was a young beam of light on drums. Teeth gleaming, laughing, bleached hair glowing, whole body shaking, drumsticks twirling, pushing those red sparkle drums with a hawk painted on the bass drum like a white tornado. It was the first time I saw Levon Helm, and I’d never seen anything like it.”
Watching Levon dance across the front of the main stage at the New Orleans jazzfest, a few weeks before he died, is one of my best musical memories.
Encountering Jerry Lee Lewis:
“As we headed back to Sun Records for Fred’s appointment, I was flushed with excitement. Inside I took a seat in a little lobby area while Fred was escorted to an office. The pictures of legendary Sun records artists hanging up and down the hallway made me feel I was stepping into a rock ‘n roll cathedral. A man came out of the recording studio, and as the door swung I thought I saw Jerry Lee Lewis sitting at the piano. Must be imagining it, I thought, but the door to the control room opened and from the speakers I heard that voice and that piano – Jerry himself. So real I could barely stand it.”
Weird encounters:
“Jack, the owner of the Skyline Lounge, was none other than Jack Rubenstein – otherwise known as Jack Ruby. The man who had hired us only a few months before to play his weird, burned-out Skyline Lounge in Fort Worth, Texas, had shot and killed the assassin of President Kennedy.”
What sounds like a wonderful evening of music:
“On one of our nights off, Levon and I, along with Connie and Mama Kosh, drove a couple of hours to the Buffalo Auditorium to catch Otis Redding; Jerry Butler, with Curtis Mayfield and the Impressions; and Junior Walker and the All Stars.
Otis was astounding; that voice slayed me. He could be such an exciting performer, but it was the ballads that completely took me away, songs like “These Arms of Mine.””
My favourite paragraph so far:
“Upstairs in the workroom across from my bedroom on Larsen Lane, I sat with a little typewriter, a pen and legal pad, and a Martin D-28 that said NAZARETH, PENNSYLVANIA on the label inside the sound hole. I revisited memories and characters from my southern exposure and put them into a Luis Bunuel surreal setting. One of the themes that really stuck with me from Bunuel’s films, like Viridiana, was the impossibility of sainthood – no good deed goes unpunished. I wrote “The Weight” in one sitting that night.”
Imagine – that’s where those classic lines started – looking into a Martin guitar sound hole:
Just after I posted the blog last week, I received this nifty little tool from Amazon. What do you think this is used for? It’s a $10 item that freed Finn from a hazardous task. We were going to beg him to climb up in the empty alcove at the bottom of the stairs where the bulb has been out for years. Diana changed the next one over, which is easier to get to from the stairs, but we were not comfortable having her try this one. I remember Finn climbing to the top of a friend’s very tall pine tree to install the Christmas star – he used to be such a completely unafraid climber. No need, 2 minutes with the right tool and I had the bulb replaced.
I enjoyed a new streaming series with my workouts early this week. “3-2-1 McCartney” features Sir Paul discussing his music with über (I finally figured out all the secret codes necessary to add accents to letters in this blogging software) producer, Rick Rubin. As Diana would say, this is “right up K alley.” Particularly the parts where McCartney is sitting at the piano, showing Rubin how songs came about. A very simply produced (black and white mostly) series that I highly recommend.
I loved the story of a roadie asking Sir Paul to “pass the salt and pepper”. McCartney heard Sgt. Pepper and thought what an interesting character that might be…
The boys gave me a full interior and exterior detail service for Penelope for my birthday. I thought that should get done before I lost the coupon, and so scheduled it for Monday morning. Unfortunately the weather did not cooperate with torrential rain until around 10:30am. The guy who came to do the service had to wait a while for a break in the rain. He came in a special truck outfitted with everything he needed – didn’t even want a hose – “we use special de-ionized water.”
P hasn’t looked this good since the day that I bought her. The wheels are spotless throughout and she really sparkles in the sun. I hope I haven’t set a bad precedent with her now.
The last piece of the kitchen project arrived this week. Jose installed the new ovens (and a couple of new ceiling fans for the back patio). They certainly seem to heat up and cool down faster than the old ones (which took forever.) Finn cooked a great batch of lemon bars last night. Clorinda is a big fan of those. Diana particularly likes that the doors open vertically rather than horizontally – much easier to get close to the racks to remove hot treats. Penelope got a chuckle out of the fact that the oven is made by the same company, Bosch, that manufactures most of her spare parts. It’s nice to have this project behind us. Well, one small update still required – a couple of the new floor boards pop when you hit them just right. Apparently Jose will need to drill small holes and pump some glue in to fix that.
We managed to break Clorinda away from Olympics watching to work on a jigsaw puzzle for a while. Maybe we shouldn’t have started with one of the super challenging Frenchy ones – but thought the fatter wood pieces would be easier to manage.
Outdoor exercise is having to happen earlier in the day as we enter the Texas summer. We were out at 8am this morning for our walk/run and my shirt was still drenched by the end. It does feel good to get that behind me so early in the day. I now have my sights set on brunch at C.T. Provisions – yes, I’m having the voodoo shrimp Benedict again.
We lost one of our very favourite humans this week. Stan Bassett passed away in Brisbane, Australia, after a lengthy battle with brain cancer. He was able to accomplish some major life goals that seemed impossible after the initial diagnosis – he danced with his daughter at her wedding, met his new grandchild, and moved his daughter, son-in-law, and baby into a house across the street from his home. That’s Stan at the back of this family photo.
I first met Stan in the lobby of a hotel in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia and we hit it off right away. He spent many nights at our home, enjoying making unique combinations from Diana’s meat and cheese platters. So much kindness and positive energy radiated from Stan. There was the evening when we discovered that he knew every word to every song on Meat Loaf’s “Bat out of Hell” album – a result of having just a couple of cassette tapes when driving across the Outback. And the next morning (a Sunday) when he came downstairs to catch a flight to London – in full suit, tie, and military style spit-polished shoes. “Why are you all dressed up to sit on a plane for 8 hours Stan?” “It’s work time and this is how I dress for work.” Thanks for all the wonderful memories Stan!
On Gypsy Hill in Pacifica, CA, the three musketeers headed out for a walk. I love the way this picture captures Frankie happily leading the way, while Luciano is on the lookout for wildlife.
I finished “Dirt, Adventures in Lyon as a Chef in Training, Father, and Sleuth Looking for the Secret of French Cooking” by Bill Buford, and promised some quotes. I enjoyed this book but found it a bit of a slog in the middle – too much rambling about the tiny details of French cooking.
Buford attends a culinary school run by the famous Paul Bucose, and describes attempts to make the perfect, French style omelet. Not something that I’ve come anywhere close to yet.
“A student presented his omelet. The instructor poked it and shook his head. He didn’t bother to taste it; he tipped it into the trash. An omelet wants to be soft in the middle, pillowy to the touch. It should have bounce. This one was hard.
The next student’s omelet was too big: big in the sense of too much volume. The instructor remonstrated him. “Why did you use a whisk? Un fouet. “I told you a fork.”
The class was kitchen basics. A whisk aerates the protein. It is what you use to make a soufflé or a meringue. An omelet gets it tenderness by being mixed, not whipped. You want the egg whites quiet and small.”
I enjoyed this description of Buford’s wife responding to commentary from fellow diners in restaurants. I’m with the first gentleman on laughing too loudly – I get really tired of groups of ladies who feel the need to cackle at the tops of their lungs to let everyone know how much fun they’re having.
“No civic official, I am confident, had ever seen an American like Jessica once crossed. She had been emancipated by the French language. There is a quality about French rudeness – a self-righteousness, probably – that provoked Jessica to the point of rage, especially if she was the target: as when a diner (again, a man) crossed the very small restaurant where we were eating dinner with friends to tell her that she laughed too loudly, or when a diner (a man, of course) at the next table at the Bouchon des Filles leaned over, after observing that she had filled my glass, and told her that, in France, it is the man, not the woman, who pours the wine. Jessica expressed exaggerated surprise, given that the woman in question was a wine expert, that she also consulted on the wine list of the restaurant, which was pointedly called Bouchon des Filles, and was owned and run by women. (The man was witheringly silenced, and his wife spent the rest of the evening apologizing for the behavior of or her spouse.)”
A description of just how seriously the Lyonnaise take their food, even in public schools.
“The canteen menu was posted each week outside the school’s entrance: three courses, plus a produit laitier; a milk product – yogurt or cheese. There were no repeats, a feature so radical that I am compelled to repeat it. No menu was ever served twice during the entire school year. (Jessica, who had become a member of a parent-teacher executive committee, discovered that, at strategic intervals, certain foods were repeated – turnips, kale, beets – to help children become familiar with them.”
The first course would be a salad – say, grated carrots with a vinaigrette, George’s current favorite (“Carrotes râpées!”), which he asked his mother to make for dinner. The second, the plat principal, might be a poulet with a sauce grand-mère (made from broth that the chicken had been cooked in). There was a cooked vegetable (maybe Swiss chard in a béchamel sauce), and a fruit or dessert. The boys’ favorite had been moelleux au chocolat, hard on the outside, like a brownie, and soft in the middle, with a warm meltingness.
L’École Robert Doisneau was an underfunded, overcrowded public school. It had roof leaks, an asphalt playground that was breaking up and weeds growing through the cracks. In its confidence that eating could be taught, it wasn’t exceptional. The food our boys ate made them different from their parents.”
I didn’t know that da Vinci finished out his years in France. Buford has an ongoing theme in the book that most of French cooking actually has its roots in Italian cuisine from the Medici era. He presents a lot of seemingly credible, and deeply researched information to support this theory.
“I had been to Vinci, where Leonardo comes from – da Vinci – in Tuscany. Leonardo is the undisputed genius of the Florentine Renaissance. Just about everyone knows this. What I hadn’t known, even when I was visiting the village where he grew up, was that he would die, in 1519, effectively a Frenchman. The detail is seldom mentioned in Italy. It seems to be mentioned less in France, even though Leonardo’s most famous painting, the Mona Lisa, is hanging in the Louvre because it was one of the canvases he brought with him. The other was Saint John the Baptist.”
This reminded me of the delicious zabaglione that my Mum makes. Maybe I can have one if we make our visit in August.
“A sabayon is a foam sauce as much as it is an emulsion. As Harold McGee points out: Yolks will foam pretty well on their own, but they will foam spectacularly with water. Mine had failed because they didn’t have enough water. I had reduced it too much.
Dictionaries describe the French word sabayon as having appeared in the French language in 1803, even though the technique was probably in place long before. It comes from the Italian zabaglione (sweet wine, Marsala usually, the water element, plus egg yolks, whisked and cooked).”
Ahh, the French cheeses:
“Like the fact that there are so many different kind of cheese in France, more than anywhere else in the world, twelve hundred of the twenty-two hundred unique European varieties, according to Michel Bouvier, the former curator of food and drink at the Gallo-Roman museum near Vienna. And now, my hands still smelling of milk, I find it miraculous that there would be so many. The miracle isn’t because France has a varied landscape with varied food making practices arising out of it, although it does; it is implicit in the sheer antiquity of how long cheeses have been made here, each one originating out of a specificity of place that is probably pre-civilization, when the horizon was not much more than the perimeters of where you could walk in a day.”
Buford’s twins struggled on returning to New York after several years in Lyon:
“They had issues with the food. At the school, the “chefs” didn’t wear toques, George complained at dinner. Also, they didn’t cook, he said.
“They use a microwave,” Frederick explained. The expressions of both boys conveyed utter astonishment that a microwaver would ever have the audacity to call him or herself a chef.”
I also read “Sorry for Your Trouble”, a collection of short stories and novellas by Richard Ford. I loved his books “The Sportswriter” and “Independence Day” and had high hopes for this collection. The two novellas (around 45 pages long) were quite good, but the short stories didn’t work as well.
It was clear from the stories that Ford has spent considerable time in New Orleans and Ireland – an internet search shows that he actually taught for a while at Trinity college in Dublin.
“They were at the Monteleone, the shadowed old afternoon redoubt with the bar that was a carousel. It wasn’t crowded. Outside the tall windows on Royal a parade was shoving past. Boom-pa-pa, boom-pa-pa. Then the trumpets not altogether on key. St. Paddy’s was Tuesday. Now was only Friday.”
This review from the New York Times sums the stories up quite well:
“Ford has a gift for nimble interior monologues and a superb ear for the varieties and vagaries of human speech. His prose can strike a Hemingwayesque cadence…One page later, a sparkling note of Fitzgerald…Ford is of the last generation of writers to have grown up directly under the Papa-and-Scott dispensation, and it’s gratifying to hear his sentences pay homage…Acutely described settings, pitch-perfect dialogue, inner lives vividly evoked, complex protagonists brought toward difficult recognitions: There’s a kind of narrative, often dismissed as the “well-crafted, writing-class story,” that deals in muted epiphanies and trains its gaze inward, to pangs and misgivings.”
I got on a bit of a Stevie Wonder kick this week, listening to most of the triple album “The Secret Life of Plants.” What a superb collection of music in so many different styles.
One of my favourite Stevie Wonder creations from the “Hotter than July” album:
And finally, I’ve been revisiting some old (late 70s) Alan Parsons Project – the production and orchestration are so good:
“A Guys Happy Hour and Dinner and a concert in the same week!”
I got some work done on Monday between coffee with Finn at Duino, and going to Clorinda’s appointment with the retina specialist in the afternoon. Later, I went to my first Happy Hour with some guys in a while. Robbie and Fred from work met me at Union Bear and we really enjoyed catching up for a couple of hours.
Nothing much to report from Tuesday through Thursday. We shared duties taking Clorinda to appointments and were both pretty busy with work. I have a quarterly Board of Directors meeting in a couple of weeks, and it’s always busy getting everything ready for that.
Diana followed me down to Auto Hans early Friday to drop off Penelope for an oil change. Now she has new tires, new oil and is getting a full detail tomorrow – so spoiled and pampered.
On Friday evening, Finn cooked and hung out with Clorinda so that we could attend a concert at the Kessler. Mike Zito and his Big Band with opener Indigenous. We bought tickets at the last minute and so didn’t have a reserved table. No worries, we got there early and claimed the prime high seats at the back beside the mixing desk. That way Diana had a clear line of sight to the stage, and the sound is premium.
Seats claimed, we walked up to Nova for our typical light dinner before the show. We sat at the bar and enjoyed three delicious appetizers – beets (my favourite), Brussel sprouts, and smoked salmon potato skins (McD’s favorite.)
We really enjoy the relaxed and welcoming feel of Nova. The bar tender was convinced she knew me – thought she might have gone to high school with me – unlikely. Upon investigation, we decided that the only place we could have met was at the Green Room in Deep Ellum, over 20 years ago. Possible, but still unlikely.
I was looking forward to Indigenous. They are a band formed of family members from the Sioux reservation in South Dakota. Mato Nanji (Ma-TOE NON-gee) is the lead guitarist and singer. I first listened to them in 2000, with the CD “Circle” one of my favourites that year. I also saw them as part of the “Experience Hendrix” show at the Warfield in San Francisco, with Buddy Guy and Carlos Santana. Here they are at the Kessler performing a John Lee Hooker cover, best known these days as the theme music for NCIS New Orleans:
And here’s a Hendrix cover that I enjoyed. Isn’t that a beautiful looking guitar?
I wasn’t sure what to expect from Mike Zito. He was in a band that I enjoyed, Royal Southern Brotherhood, with Cyril Neville. His guitar playing was always great, but didn’t know if I would appreciate the vocals. We were pleasantly surprised. Here’s a Prince cover, not necessarily what you expect from a blues band:
Now a good example of Zito’s blues guitar:
That solo is from a new song, “Ressurection”, that I thought was a highlight of the set:
And I’ll finish up the concert sharing with a solo from the trumpet player (apparently a regular member of Jason Mraz’s band):
At Diana’s prompting, we had a nice chat with Jeff Liles, booking agent for the Kessler, about this appearance in the “Bring Music Home” book that raised money for “Save our Stages”, a fund raising effort to save independent music clubs that were closed at the height of the pandemic. I really love that book and the thought and care that went into creating it.
Saturday started with a walk with McD – it didn’t seem too hot but we were both quite sweaty and tired when we finished – the humidity always gets you. While limbered up, I finally was able to fix the aromatherapy unit for the steam shower – power reset required, and then took on the task of washing the big windows that look out to the pool from the family room. My best job yet, with the secret being the drying technique with the squeegee. Clorinda approved the work and is enjoying her clearer view of the pool, trees, and flowers. Diana tackled the ever-returning weeds while I did that. We both entered the afternoon with a feeling of accomplishment.
Amy spent the night, having had her fill of crashing on the couch at her kids’ apartment. We ordered food from the Little Greek and enjoyed catching up – getting formal by eating our take out in the dining room.
Finn and I watched game 5 of the NBA Finals (Milwaukee Bucks vs. Phoenix Suns) with Clorinda after dinner. It was a good game and she refused to go to bed after it finished at 10:30pm – thinking there was still something interesting to learn from the post game commentary. We’ve created a sports fanatic.
On Sunday morning I watched the British Open golf while Diana and Amy went out for a run. They both miss their running buddies. Jordan Spieth tried hard but couldn’t keep up with the flawless final round play of Collin Morikawa.
I promised some quotes from “Saved by a Song” by Mary Gauthier – my book last week and my favourite of the year so far and by far:
From the introduction, or what Mary calls “Invitation”:
“I believe songs that heal come from a higher place. They help us with the struggle of being human by letting us know we are not alone. This is the greatest gift a song can give a songwriter and a songwriter can give the world.
Bruce Springsteen said, “Music is a repair shop, I’m basically a repair man.” I love that. Songs have the power to repair hearts and souls.
Saved by a song.”
From the chapter on the song “Drag Queens and Limousines”:
“Clarity comes from stories. They help us make sense of our lives. Witnessing other people’s lives through stories is a kind of medicine, and the magic is in getting the story emotionally honest.
Guy Clark once said, “We’re all pretty much living the same life just hitting the marks at different times.” “Drag Queens in Limousines” showed me that I have no idea what’s going on inside a person’s heart, in that tender place that the poet Miller Williams, Lucinda’s father, described as, “Where the spirit meets the bone.” Until I wrote this song and played it for people, I had no idea most everyone has felt like an outsider at some point in their life, but they have.
That outsider feeling is universal.”
On working on the amazing “Mercy Now”:
“We hang in the balance
Dangle ‘tween hell and hallowed ground
Every single on of us could use some mercy now
Every single on of us could use some mercy now
I worked on it for the next three days, changing one word at a time, meditating on the meaning, letting the new words sit a while, and it was slow going. I played it for a friend, a fellow songwriter, who encouraged me to be brave and play it on a side stage at a festival workshop we were going to share the next afternoon. So, I wrote the words on a piece of hotel room stationery. And in the afternoon on the last day of Canmore Folk Festival, August 2003, I taped those words onto the mic stand and played “Mercy Now” in front of an audience for the very first time.
I’ve played it on every stage at every show, every night, since.”
From the chapter on John Lennon’s “Mother”:
“St. Francis of Assisi said, “One who works with their hands is a laborer. One who works with their hands and head is a craftsman. One who works with their hands, their head and their heart is an artist.”
Finally, from the chapter on “Rifles and Rosary Beads” and writing about a songwriting camp that pairs songwriters with veterans to share their experiences:
“Our job as songwriters is to help turn the veterans’ stories into songs. The songwriter brings decades of songwriting experience, the veteran brings their story. Before I worked my first retreat, I assumed that asking a wounded soldier to open up to a songwriter would be a stretch. I’d heard that silence is the soldier’s code; that those who have seen combat do not talk about it, those who talk about it have not seen it. Coming out the other side is enough.”
“Before long, they start to tell me their story, little by slow. I play a little music on my guitar, find a melody that matches what they’re saying. The music helps open them up; a sympathetic melody is like a magnet that pulls their story out. They feel seen and heard, which helps them feel safe.”
I’m about half way through “Dirt, Adventures in Lyon as a Chef in Training, Father, and Sleuth Looking for the Secret of French Cooking” by Bill Buford.
Here’s a summary review that captures the plot pretty well:
“What does it take to master French cooking? This is the question that drives Bill Buford to abandon his perfectly happy life in New York City and pack up and (with a wife and three-year-old twin sons in tow) move to Lyon, the so-called gastronomic capital of France. But what was meant to be six months in a new and very foreign city turns into a wild five-year digression from normal life, as Buford apprentices at Lyon’s best boulangerie, studies at a legendary culinary school, and cooks at a storied Michelin-starred restaurant, where he discovers the exacting (and incomprehensibly punishing) rigueur of the professional kitchen.
With his signature humor, sense of adventure, and masterful ability to bring an exotic and unknown world to life, Buford has written the definitive insider story of a city and its great culinary culture.”
Some samples of my favourite bits next week.
This has gone on for a while, and I’ve covered a lot of musical ground already, so I’ll share this excellent playlist that Amy Campagna sent me. So many great songs on this – kudos to whoever created it. Ahh, I see now that was Alex Harrouff. I like the sound of that last name, picturing the pitch going up on the “ouff.”
Monday was a holiday since July 4th fell on Sunday. I was relatively productive – started with a swim, cleaned up a dead mouse, bled the aromatherapy shower unit (still not working quite right), and cut some dead branches from the Japanese maple, while McD trimmed up the maple so it doesn’t block the pathway as much. We were also able to watch a bit of Wimbledon with Clorinda.
I’ve been watching a new movie, “Summer of Soul”, while doing my elliptical workouts. This is a movie, directed by Questlove, about a music festival held in Harlem over several weekends in 1969. The festival is known as the Black Woodstock, occurring within months of that well known event. Nobody knows anything about it because the film was kept in a basement for 50 years as the recorder couldn’t find anybody to fund making it into a movie. Enter Questlove and some financial backers.
The movie is excellent with amazing performances intermixed with interviews with the artists today. Stevie Wonder, Sly and the Family Stone, Nina Simone, B.B. King, and Mavis Staples are among the long list of acts involved. I read that Questlove owns over 200,000 albums and has a vast encyclopedic knowledge of all kinds of music.
Finn arrived back from Oregon on Wednesday night – he was tired from the travel and happy to get back in his spot on his couch.
I laughed when I read these lines in a story in the New Yorker this week:
“We were living on a farm, shared with a Noah’s ark of animals and birds. The animals included Finn the Doug, a genial Irish wolf hound.” This is included in a story called “Driving Lessons” by Margaret Atwood (Handmaid’s Tale author.)
Finn cooked salmon and Brussel sprouts for everyone on Thursday evening. Then we watched the NBA Finals (Bucks vs Suns) with Clorinda. She refused to go to bed until the game finished.
We enjoyed take out Thai food on Friday. Yummy.
Penelope got new front tires on Saturday morning. Finn and I went to the fancy iPic theater in the afternoon to watch the “Black Widow” movie – the latest in the Marvel franchise. Scarlett Johanss0n starred as the Black Widow, so it wasn’t a total loss.
Clorinda enjoyed a trip to Market Street with Diana – a bit busier than Target so she had to be careful navigating around on the buggy.
This was move weekend for Alicia – from San Luis Obispo to San Jose to attend San Jose State University in the fall. She did a great job of coordinating movers and getting everything organized by herself. She seems quite happy with the new apartment, roommate, and the cats that come with the new roommate. Furniture is starting to come together.
Sunday started with a walk with Diana, and continued with the Wimbledon Men’s Final, then the European soccer final. Several members of the household were quite excited when Italy won the penalty shootout at the end of the tied game.
I received some funny pictures this week. Amy sent these pictures of Massimo with a lizard on his back:
The text from Amy was great: “Mom! There’s a lizard on my back!”
“Oh my! How’d that happen?”
“I moved that log and it was under it and it crawled up my back.”
Equally entertaining is this picture of Pride, the Great Dane, on his 8th birthday, from Rachel:
I can’t believe she made the poor guy wear a Tutu.
I finished up “Babbitt” by Sinclair Lewis, and don’t have too much new to say about it. A pleasant and easy read that didn’t really seem to have as much to say as reviewers would have us believe.
On the other hand, “Saved by a Song” by Mary Gauthier, was a rare treat. Each chapter covers what was going on in Gauthier’s life when a song was written and also shows the evolution of the song from first draft to recorded version. The writing is supremely honest and I found it wonderful. I’m almost finished and will include some quotes and examples next week.
Here’s my favourite of Mary’s songs:
Transitioning over to the music section, I was saddened to hear of the passing of Dale Triguero this week. Here’s an article by the excellent music journalist Keith Spera, about Dale:
Dale owned and operated the Chickie Wah Wah music club in New Orleans. Denny and I visited his club shortly after it opened many years ago, and Anne had her 50th birthday party there, with music from the Creole String Beans. Dale was always kind and engaging, and really treated the musicians well. The music was taken very seriously at the club, more like a true listening room. One of our favourite shows there was the annual Anders Osborne, John Fohl, and Johnny Sansone performance that takes place over jazzfest. Here’s a link to the blog from back in 2016 that has video of one of those amazing shows:
Clorinda and I watched a great DVD (yes, we can still manage to play those) on Monday. “Seymour: An Introduction” is about a concert pianist, who gives up a successful performance career to teach piano students. The care Seymour shows for his students is really something. Highly recommended watching.
Tuesday started with a pleasant swim. I’m finding that swimming is significantly helping the pain where I had the screws put in my leg. I had been considering having the screws removed, but if swimming is helping, then it’s likely scar tissue and not the screws causing the pain. Going to have to start swimming a few times a week.
After my swim, I took Clorinda for coffee at Duino. This is always a great time to enjoy her stories. The repertoire this time included: “Bluebell” with the rumble seat, a car that folks she would babysit for gave her to get around in; and Margie (Clorinda’s sister) teaching music in Orinda and putting on a choir performance that Clorinda loved.
Rachel joined us for dinner on Tuesday and regaled us with updates about her new boyfriend who lives in Nashville. I had told Clorinda at coffee that she could expect updates about Rachel’s love life – and I was not wrong.
The four of us had a last meal together on Friday night, with Alicia flying to San Francisco on Saturday. Everyone really enjoyed the meal at C.T. Provisions – our new favourite McKinney restaurant. Clorinda opted for the duck special and I had the Cornish game hen – plenty of leftovers from both.
Anne was in Ohio, helping her parents to get their cabin ready for sale. Guessing they’ll be living fulltime in Florida now. Looks like both Anne and her Mum, Carolyn, had a good time at the Rock ‘N Roll Hall of Fame.
Clorinda has been enjoying sampling my library books. This one is about a journalist for the New Yorker, who moves to Lyon in his fifties to learn all about French cooking. She got pretty bored with the details of the French cuisine and moved on to something else.
On Sunday, Independence Day (and nobody asked me this year if we celebrate July 4th in Scotland), we took Clorinda to Filtered for coffee, quiche, and crossword with Keith. Well – she declined to participate in the crossword competition. We watched the celebration from the Capital Mall in Washington, D.C. and the fireworks from New York, which are always so spectacular. R.E.O Speedwagon and Susannah Hoffs both performed songs from around 1980 – still going strong in their sixties with the same material from when I was in high school.
Will sent this picture of Ollie. I was quite impressed and asked who was the artist. Even more impressed to find it was Will, using Christine’s art pens.
I did receive a number of great July 4th pictures. Here’s Campbell and Molly’s penguin enjoying a boat ride to the fireworks on a lake in Iowa:
Do you like his patriotic bowtie? Our penguin got very puffed up when he saw these pictures.
Here is a picture from Tim’s vacation location in Colorado (Alta Lakes), and one from earlier in the week with his daughter, Imogene, posing at the high elevation pass that shares her name:
And finally, a lovely sunset from Blair’s boat in South Padre island:
I was making good progress on “Babbitt” by Sinclair Lewis, when I got an email from the library saying that I needed to return “The Final Revival of Opal and Nev” because another patron had a request for it. So I switched over to that right away.
The story centers on a fictional interracial rock duo from the 1970s: Opal is a Black proto Afro-punk singer from Detroit, and Nev is a goofy white British singer-songwriter.
Opal and Nev become famous in 1971, when a riot occurs at one of their concerts during which their Black drummer is beaten to death by a white mob. The book is told in the form of a faux oral history that’s being written by Sunny, the first Black editor-in-chief of a music magazine — who also happens to be the daughter of the late drummer.
I enjoyed the faux oral history approach for a while, with each character having their say for a paragraph or so, before moving on to a different character’s view. But I grew tired of the choppiness pretty quickly – I would have preferred lengthier sections from each, and more meat from the interviewer character (Sunny).
This book is on all the “Best of 2021 so far” lists, and it certainly provides some entertainment value, but not one I would recommend. I hope the person who picks this up from the library after me appreciates it more.
“Another Ticket” by Eric Clapton has been on my turntable as I’ve been composing this post. This is not one of the highly rated, popular Clapton disks, but it is one of my favourites and I believe the one that I’ve played most over the years.
The album is Clapton’s seventh solo studio record. It was recorded by Tom Dowd at the Compass Point Studios in Nassau, Bahamas, and has that rich bass sound that seems to come from that venue. It achieved modest commercial success peaking at number 18 in the UK charts.
Here’s the title track:
That’s Gary Brooker on keyboards. He was the lead singer and keyboard player with Procul Harem of “Whiter Shade of Pale” fame.
Albert Lee plays the alternate lead guitar and I think he’s fantastic. I was lucky enough to see him play with Clapton at the Edinburgh Playhouse around the time this record was released. You can hear his contribution and the great bass of Dave Markee on this Sleepy John Estes cover:
Apologies for skipping the post last week – it was Father’s Day after all, and I spent 4 hours in the afternoon (when I would typically work on the post) driving down to Austin. More on that later.
Two weeks ago we were starting to get appointments organized for Clorinda to get all caught up on what we’re calling her “maintenance.” On Monday she visited Dr. Sabzali (our family doctor) and had blood drawn and all the other new patient fun. She relaxed with me in the evening, watching the Olympic swimming trials. She really enjoys the races but thinks the commentators spoil her enjoyment with all of their chatter. I am really looking forward to the Olympics next month.
It’s turning into a typical Texas summer here very quickly, and we had to take our walks early in the morning on Tuesday and Wednesday to avoid the mix of humidity and high temperatures that turn a pleasant walk into a chore.
I was out and about quite a bit on Wednesday, with a business meeting in Craig Ranch (not far from the house) and then lunch with a friend from Dell at TruFire in Frisco. I love their falafel combination plate. It was great to catch up with Chad – he brought me up to speed on all the crazy goings-on at AIG. It felt good to get out and about and meet folks.
While I was out and about, Clorinda visited Leah for a haircut. Leah can now proudly report that she has taken care of all three generations.
We had a wonderful anniversary dinner (number 4) on Thursday at C.T. Provisions in downtown McKinney. This is the place where I love the voodoo Benedict at brunch. Their dinner was even better than brunch. Those mussels may be the best that I’ve had, and D’s Hamachi was very fresh and tasty.
The wild boar bolognaise with egg-yolk pappardelle pasta was amazing – my only comment would be that the croutons didn’t really add anything to the dish – pine nuts would have been a better crunch.
C.T.’s also has an excellent cocktail bar – their vesper was delicious.
Traditional gifts for four year anniversaries are flowers and fruit. So I got McD some nice roses and then performed “the fruit of my labours” during the week, “Your Song” by Elton John.
Meanwhile, in Amarillo, Will was attempting the Big Texan restaurant’s “Free 72 oz Steak, if you can eat it all” challenge. The key is that “eat it all” includes roll, baked potato, salad and I don’t know what else. What do you think his chances are? Well, Tina, owner of the place, thought them pretty slim and wagered him a pair of longhorns that he couldn’t do it – the same kind you see on the front of the limo that picked Will and Christine up and drove them to the Big Texan ranch.
The picture on the left says it all. I had no doubt he would force it all down. What a crazy scene – like John Candy in “The Great Outdoors.”
The only difference is that Candy is attempting “the ole 96’er” – even more than Will demolished. He didn’t make the trip to Amarillo just for the eating contest, but was actually there for Alexis’ wedding. And of course he had to have a pair of cowboy boots – nobody told him your jeans are supposed to go over them – maybe a new fashion trend.
I enjoyed FaceTime and phone calls from all three sons on Father’s Day, before making the drive down to Austin with Penelope for meetings on Monday morning. Campbell sent an assortment of nuts that we’ve been enjoying.
Our Executive Committee got together for the first time in person in around 18 months on Monday morning. Several of my IT team members traveled to the office as well. Really starting to feel like we’re getting back to some semblance of normality. We had an IT happy hour at Baker Street Pub on Monday afternoon, and then I enjoyed a delicious dinner with the ExCo at ATX Cocina. That’s the place where the entire menu is gluten free and Brent was like a kid in a candy store, not having to be so picky about what he ordered.
I had a good boys night with Damon and Sean on Tuesday, with stops at the Roosevelt Room for cocktails, followed by a nice cigar lounge. I loved the “Black Pearl” cocktail which was served in a treasure box.
We worked in the Austin office on Wednesday morning, and then Damon and I accompanied Penelope back to McKinney. We spent a fun evening with Damon getting lots of great Clorinda stories. She asked us the next day if we “had any more friends coming to visit.”
We had some more boy fun on Thursday afternoon, with a vendor hosting us in a suite at Globe Life field to watch the Texas Rangers play the Oakland A’s in an afternoon baseball game. The new stadium is a very impressive architectural feat, with the retractable roof closed to provide some respite from the heat and humidity. The old stadium is still standing next door and the Cowboys stadium is just behind.
I took a picture of the A’s lineup to show Ben that “Chappy” was playing. That’s his favourite player and he got to attend an A’s game recently in California to check him out.
Campbell flew to Hawaii with Molly on Wednesday and sent this great picture of a sea turtle that was enjoying swimming with them.
Things were busy at the house on Saturday. Amy visited us for the afternoon (in for a few days from Santa Fe.) And Jose and crew installed the long awaited vent hood and stovetop. Just the oven still to come. We’re quite pleased with the results.
That center burner has two flames and can boil water very quickly. Put to a good test by McD making pasta on Saturday night. I really like the sleek lines of the hood, and Jose made sure it was high enough to give me good access. He’s not much taller than Diana and so I appreciate him considering my height as he does the installations.
Speaking of cooking, Finn continued to explore his baking capabilities, this week with donuts. Here he is mixing up the ingredients, then leaving the dough to rise, and a yummy looking final product. I don’t imagine they lasted too long in a houseful of young men.
I received a very interesting late birthday gift from Anne and Denny. It’s a book by their friend, Macon Fry, titled “They Called Us River Rats.” Diana and I enjoyed an oyster fest at Macon’s “batture” a few years ago, and he is quite the character.
Here he is with one of his goats. His friend Derek Houston had been at the Grammy awards a few days before the oyster fest, and Macon told me the story of him calling to tell him they had a “Goat Check” at the Beverly Hills hotel – apparently the “Coat Check” sign was in a fancy font that made it look just like that.
I suspect you’re wondering what a “batture” might be. Well here’s the description of the book from Macon’s website that will help clear that up, along with a picture.
“They Called Us River Rats is the previously untold story of perhaps the oldest outsider settlement in America, an invisible community on the annually-flooded shore of the river. We exist in the place between the normal high and low water line of the Mississippi River, known in Louisiana as the batture. For the better part of two centuries, batture-dwellers like me have raised shanty-boats on stilts, built water-adapted homes, foraged, fished, and survived using the skills a river environment teaches. Over the years, batture-dwellers have been reviled, jailed or lynched by citizens on the other side of the levee. Even today, beaches erode under houses. When the river rises, barges and river-borne debris can slam into homes.
Accounts of crime, disaster and romance on the riverside appear in newspapers and archives, but until now the stories of a batture way of life have existed only in the memories of those who have lived here. Beginning in 2000, I set about recording the stories of all the old batture dwellers I could find: maritime workers, willow furniture makers, fishermen, artists and river shrimpers. I’m still uncovering stories in libraries and archives of fortune-tellers, faith healers, and wild bird trappers who lived on the river.
Now I am among the senior generation of “River Rats” living in a vestigial colony of 12 “camps” on New Orleans’ river batture, a fragment of a settlement that once stretched nearly six miles along the riverfront and numbered hundreds of homes. It is the last riparian settlement on the Lower Mississippi, an echo of life outside urban zoning, planning and flood protection.”
I have only scanned portions of the book so far, but have it high up on the “to be read” list.
For the first time in a while, I stopped reading a book after about 20 pages this week. “Terrorist” by John Updike sounded very good, but I just couldn’t persevere with all the Islamic names and terms. I have very much enjoyed several other books by Updike, but this one was just going to be too much work and not any kind of relaxing escape.
I replaced “Terrorist” with “Babbitt” by Sinclair Lewis. This is a book published in 1922, and described as “a satirical novel about American culture and society that critiques the vacuity of middle class life and the social pressure toward conformity. The controversy provoked by Babbitt was influential in the decision to award the Novel Prize in Literature to Lewis in 1930.
I’ve been enjoying the quite dated phrases and terms in the book so far, and the descriptions of real estate marketing practices enacted by the main character. More to come next week.
Interestingly, I read that the word “Babbitt” entered the English language as a “person and especially a business or professional man who conforms unthinkingly to prevailing middle-class standards. I think I’ve met a few “Babbitt’s” on the few times that I visited the local golf country clubs.
Galactic’s “Coolin’ Off” is the latest release from the Tipitina’s Record Club – arrived last week and has been on regular rotation. Tipitina’s is a famed music club in New Orleans, and members of Galactic purchased it just before the pandemic. I joined the record club to try and help them weather the storm – running a music club is hard work in the best of circumstances.
Released in 1996, “Coolin’ Off” was the first popular record for the band, with the core lineup augmented with brass and other guests:
Dan Prothero – programming, producer, engineer, editing, design, mixing
Raymond Pumilia – photography
Rich Vogel – keyboards
Mark Mullins is the leader in the four trombone band, Bonerama, that I really enjoy. I believe Stanton Moore to be one of the most talented current drummers – you can always tell when he’s sitting in with a band – things move to a whole different level.
I started the week in Austin, and had my fastest time ever (breaking the 5 minute barrier) on a crossword, while enjoying a macchiato and Jess special taco at Trianon coffee. Seems my brain enjoys the Austin vibe.
I had planned on picking up Diana, Clorinda, and Alicia at the airport on my drive back up to McKinney from Austin, but thunder storms in Dallas delayed their flight by several hours. I drove home and then made a late night round trip to the airport. Monday was a long, tiring day.
My excitement on Tuesday was a trip to the dentist for a cleaning. I’m always pleased when nothing is found wrong during these visits, and I don’t have to revisit for another six months.
Diana and I watched the final episode of “Mare of Easttown” in the evening, after Clorinda was in bed. We didn’t make it too far before deciding we were too tired to finish – just after Diana uncovered an upcoming plot twist. She’s very good at following the clues and piecing things together – meanwhile I’m just trying to keep up with the basic plot.
I took Clorinda to Duino coffee shop for lunch on Wednesday. She had a great time, regaling me with lots of interesting stories, including several from her time in New Zealand and Switzerland, the classic one about when she got a police escort to her music school in San Francisco because she was driving too slowly, and the one where her father took her to the local service station after she moved into her first San Francisco apartment, telling the mechanic to take good care of her car and to charge reasonable prices. I laughed when she said she was really enjoying her tea and particularly that it didn’t get bitter as she nursed it. It was entertaining because she had been making fun of me earlier for saying that I really liked the coffee at Duino. “You can really tell the difference in coffee from one place to another?” I certainly can. Oh, I forgot an important story. Clorinda took the kids (4 at the time I believe) to play in the park in Switzerland, hoping they would meet some other children. There were none anywhere and she asked a man where they all were. “We sprinkle salt and pepper on them and eat them.” Apparently Giancarlo was suitably horrified. The children were in reality all up in the mountains on a summer break. I had to push out my 1pm meeting as I didn’t want to cut story time short.
The rest of the week was quieter, with Clorinda either reading or watching operas on TV.
That one was the last section of Tosca, one of her favourites.
The highlight of Clorinda’s week was a visit to Target. She claims that she hasn’t been to a store since she wrecked her car in 2017. Might be true. You can see how much fun she had in this video – shoppers beware.
We went to CT Provisions in downtown McKinney for brunch on Saturday. You’ll remember me raving about their voodoo shrimp Benedict. It was just as good as I remembered. Clorinda enjoyed her avocado toast and eggs, and a small sip of mimosa.
Ready for your weekly Ollie update? Here he is at the park that has obstacles for dogs to practice with. You can see he’s in the uphill, dominant position – but the other dog is probably wondering about how dominant he really is with a teddy bear in his mouth. I believe the black dog is a Bernadoodle – St. Bernard and poodle blend. What will they think of next?
I finished up “Water for Elephants” by Sara Gruen early this week. I did enjoy the story and particularly all the drama surrounding the elephant and his act.
I enjoyed reading the author’s note at the end of the book:
“The idea for this book came unexpectedly. In early 2003 I was gearing up to write an entirely different book when the Chicago Tribune ran an article on Edward J. Kelty, a photographer who followed traveling circuses around America in the 1920s and ’30s. The photograph that accompanied the article so fascinated me that I bought two books of old-time circus photographs. By the time I’d thumbed through them, I was hooked. I abandoned the book I’d planned to write and dove instead into the world of the train circus.”
Here’s a passage that made me smile:
“‘Jacob!’ shouts August from behind me. ‘My dear fellow! So glad you could join our little soiree. I see Marlena has set you up with a drinky-poo; has she shown you the dressing room yet?'”
“Drinky-poo” is a common term in our home.
I’m running out of Sunday afternoon and have a few other things to finish up for the week ahead, so I’m skipping the deep dive into an album from my collection this week. Instead, I read that Rick Wakeman was being given an honor by the Queen, I can’t remember exactly what it is, but that sent me to check out some of his music. Here are a few of my favourites:
This was a quiet, relaxing and very uneventful week (for me.) I flew home on Tuesday afternoon and found most things in good shape at the house. I would like to understand how the two penguins ended up fallen over, but they are both keeping very, very quiet about it. The crew in California were quite entertained when they saw the trouble the penguins had been stirring up.
While I was taking it easy and regrouping from the activity of the last couple of weeks, Diana and Alicia were busy packing up her apartment in San Luis Obispo (SLO) and putting it into storage. And I believe enjoying some of the SLO nightlife as well. They’re going to be tired when they finally make it home.
It has been raining heavily every day for at least a week, and so all the flowers and plants are loving life with larger blooms than we’ve seen before. This hydrangea seems particularly happy.
The weather improved on Saturday and I had my busiest day of the week. It’s all relative though. Started with coffee, crossword and quiche at Filtered. Downtown McKinney was a bit of work to navigate as things were all set up for something called the Revolution music festival – apparently happening in downtown for the first time and sporting some pretty big name artists – I just wasn’t in the mood to deal with the crowds that would have come with that.
After coffee, I got a haircut (told you the excitement was all relative), picked up a few things at the grocery store, and exchanged books at the local library. In between those activities, I converted Diana’s office into a bedroom for Clorinda’s upcoming visit. That was a bit of a workout – moving her heavy desk against the wall, carting a bed frame down from upstairs, then a mattress, bedding, and end tables. All finished up relatively painlessly and passed virtual inspection.
Sunday was mostly consumed by a longer than normal drive down to Austin, in preparation for work meetings in the office on Monday morning. What were all these folks doing on the road on a Sunday afternoon? And when will all the construction on I-35 ever end – it’s been years already. I did enjoy a really yummy chicken coconut curry at Tarka Indian Kitchen, just across the street from my hotel.
Ollie was driving around on Sunday as well – comfy in his plush bed and seat belt.
I didn’t get a lot of reading done this week. It’s funny how it seems to be that in the weeks when I plan to read a lot, I just don’t get much done. I’m a bit more than halfway through “Water for Elephants” by Sara Gruen. I’m enjoying the story and particularly all the details about how a circus operation would travel by train from town to town with all the animals in tow. So much work to set up and tear down for typically just one day per town. I was reminded of our trips to the Kelvin Hall for the circus as kids. The whole extravaganza with the games, prizes and rides was a lot for a kid to take in. I’ll have more to say on this book next week – trying to figure out where the plot line is headed – don’t spoil it for me if you’ve seen the movie (reviews are not good.)
I selected “Argus” by Wishbone Ash from my collection this week. I can’t remember when I acquired this album – but it was many, many years ago. It’s a favourite that I find myself revisiting several times each year.
The album was released in May of 1972 and reached number 3 on the UK charts, by far the most successful of their records. It is considered a landmark album in the progression of twin-lead guitar harmonisation. Thin Lizzy and Iron Maiden were both heavily influenced by what was accomplished by Andy Powell and Ted Turner on the dual lead guitars.
The record has a definite medieval feel too it – very similar to the feel of the band Midlake, from Denton, TX in more modern times.
These guys are still playing live – there was a show in Austin a couple of years ago that I missed. Here are a couple of favourites:
Monday was spent cleaning up after the party and relaxing before the Napa “Spectacular” adventure – one of Diana’s gifts to Alicia.
We loaded up the car and made the relatively short drive to Napa on Tuesday afternoon. The Italian style villa that Diana had rented turned out to be perfect for us – lovely pool, great location, and a perfect situation for Clorinda (who we coaxed into joining us the night before.) Here are the beautiful pool, and Diana and Alicia opening gifts in the covered patio beside it.
That particular gift was personalized sippy cups for exploring Napa. We asked Clorinda what hers said – “Nappy Valley Me.” Classic.
Dinner was pizza by the pool, followed by a girls dance party in the hot tub.
Wednesday started with a picnic at V. Sattui winery. We got there early and had our choice of tables on which to enjoy all the yummy offerings from their excellent deli.
We spent a happy couple of hours enjoying the setting, wine, and food.
I forgot to mention the great view that I got of a hot air balloon on Wednesday morning. I was sitting outside with Clorinda and she told me she thought that would be a “great adventure.” Not my idea of fun at all.
Then it was back to the house to relax before dinner. Angele, by the river in downtown Napa, was our dinner destination. Excellent French food in a very relaxed and comfortable setting. We had the best escargot we have tasted – not chewy or tough in the slightest. I loved my branzino, and everyone else enjoyed their meals also – Clorinda finishing all of her veal sweetbreads. And we finished up with the sea salt caramel pot du crème – just as good as Diana remembered it when she and Janice enjoyed it several years ago.
Thursday (Alicia’s official birthday) started early with wine tasting at Domaine Chandon winery – famous for their sparkling wines. All the tastings are by reservation only, and have very limited outdoor capacity. This meant the only spot we could get was at 10:15am. Clorinda was aghast that we would go so early – she was left home to rest and get over it. I really liked the outdoor, smaller group tastings much more than the pre-COVID scene. Here are some pictures from the gorgeous winery setting:
Alicia was a good sport, wearing the “Finally 21” sash and crown when her Mom asked. I was very impressed with the wines and overall experience at Domaine Chandon.
We went back to the house for lunch and a check in with Clorinda – she was outside enjoying the gorgeous weather and her latest book. The afternoon tasting destination was Whitehall Lane – a favourite of ours from years ago, when we enjoyed a private dinner with Randy and Janice, and Diana joined their wine club. Their Sauvignon Blanc is a delicious summer wine. This was a much more casual and informal experience than Domaine Chandon, and the wines were all excellent.
Back to the house again to collect Clorinda and change for a very fancy dinner. I chauffeured back up the valley to the Auberge du Soleil resort and restaurant. You have to make reservations for this place months in advance and the menu is a treat. Adamo and Marco decided to join us at the last minute and we were very fortunate to retain a space on the terrace, where we could enjoy the wonderful view down the Napa valley.
If you zoom in on this you can see the wonderful selections on the menu. I started with the scallop, then an amazing risotto, and finally a beautifully sous vide cooked duck.
Here Alicia is quite pleased with the earrings from Diana.
And finally a picture with Uncle Marco, who made a 3 hour drive in very heavy traffic to join us:
After the late night on Thursday, it was a bit of a production to get all packed up and out of the villa by 10am – but we made it.
Donna had arranged one final tasting for us – at the very fancy Domaine Carneros where she is a member. I enjoyed catching up with Donna and Steve, the wines were excellent, but the overall pretentious and fancy vibe off the place weren’t my thing.
This was an excellent trip. Alicia enjoyed it all and it was lovely that Clorinda was able to join us.
I had a brief rest on Saturday morning and then it was time to catch my flight to Redmond, Oregon to go and visit Finn in Bend. I laughed at my rental car – the only other choice was a Toyota Corolla (bit too small).
I picked Finn up at his house and we enjoyed a wonderful dinner at Joolz Lebanese restaurant. I was expecting him to be tired after three straight days of work, but he was in good spirits and loved his food.
Those are “camel wings” – Moroccan spice rubbed chicken wings, and sweet potatoes that he’s holding up. I loved the elk chili and we both were amazed with the date cake. This place is so good. Highly recommended if you’re ever in this part of the country.
Finn wanted to sleep in on Sunday – the only day of the week when he has that opportunity, and so I had coffee and breakfast from the Scoutpost food truck (world’s best food truck in my opinion) and Spoken Moto. The green egg bowl with chorizo is one of my favourite breakfast dishes ever.
I wandered around Bend after breakfast and came across these guys surfing on the Deschutes river – I think that’s a manmade wave that their riding.
When Finn arose, we drove out to Tumalo Falls and enjoyed a hike up to the top – not too strenuous and with excellent views.
You can tell the weather is perfect, and I love the complete lack of humidity. After the hike, Finn took me to Don Gambino’s, a hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant on 3rd street. I wouldn’t have even noticed the place, but it had excellent tacos with very fresh ingredients.
Before dropping Finn back at his house and heading to the airport, we ascended Pilot Butte, right behind the area where his house is located. The views of the snow-capped mountains from up there are awesome.
I loved spending some one on one time with Finn and look forward to getting back to Bend soon. The views from my flight home were pretty spectacular – I always enjoy seeing San Francisco and the bridges from the air.
Diana and I were up early this morning, and decided to have a coffee at Soul Grind and then a nice walk from Linda Mar beach up and over to Rockaway beach and back. There were a good number of surfers out enjoying their Memorial Day break. I was frustrated that my heart rate apparently didn’t get high enough to register any more than fifteen minutes of our hour long walk. Going to have to pick up the pace.
My read this week was “The Death of Vivek Oji” by Akwaeke Emezi. Here’s a review of the plot:
“One afternoon, in a town in southeastern Nigeria, a mother opens her front door to discover her son’s body, wrapped in colorful fabric, at her feet. What follows is the tumultuous, heart-wrenching story of one family’s struggle to understand a child whose spirit is both gentle and mysterious. Raised by a distant father and an understanding but overprotective mother, Vivek suffers disorienting blackouts, moments of disconnection between self and surroundings. As adolescence gives way to adulthood, Vivek finds solace in friendships with the warm, boisterous daughters of the Nigerwives, foreign-born women married to Nigerian men. But Vivek’s closest bond is with Osita, the worldly, high-spirited cousin whose teasing confidence masks a guarded private life. As their relationship deepens—and Osita struggles to understand Vivek’s escalating crisis—the mystery gives way to a heart-stopping act of violence in a moment of exhilarating freedom.”
The story was quite interesting and fast paced, but I didn’t particularly enjoy this book – maybe too many Nigerian names and phrases for me to keep track of. Just didn’t really grab my attention – you can tell because I don’t have a single dog-eared page with a quote to share.
I’m skipping the music section this week due to some time challenges – I’ll pick up the album of the week section again next week.