Dinner On Bleecker

After the rousing performance in midtown, there's nothing we wanted more than a delicious meal at one of the Village's fine and dimly lit restaurants. And that's what we got. Ciao Vineria Con Cucina was the chosen location. I don't think there was better choice for this night.



Our table was wobbly and smelled of oaky oils, but it only enhanced the experience. Our company was Greg to our left and Amon & Alan to our right. I sat at the head of the table where I could smell all the food passing by on its way to other patrons.




And tho Laura is not drinking any alcohol for the next few months, I couldn't help but mollycoddle a glass of chianti when Greg offered up the chance to celebrate this momentous occasion. The waiter poured a glass for Laura, so tonight I was the one who drank for two.




This was a nice place and while Amon & Greg caught up and spoke city speak Laura & I made mental notes of decor we liked.



Dinner came. Laura ordered the strozzapreti con gamberi, that's hand-rolled pasta with shrimp in a pesto cream sauce, and I had the bramzimo, a pan seared sea bass in a delicious mystery sauce served with yellow squash, spinach and roasted red peppers. Holy crap it was all so good. And the complimentary limoncello was the perfect chaser. A fine dine indeed.




The night came to an end all too soon, but everyone at the party had to be up early so... such is the life.



The long train & walk in the 12 degree weather back to Brooklyn past midnight confirmed our beliefs that Laura & I would not want to ever live in the city. We shuffled our feet past the Brooklyn Museum and managed to snap a shot to prove we survived.



So maybe that's our trip to the city for the year.

Let Me Think About It

The scene of the crime



The staging area



The cheer squad



The bakesale



The witness and paparazzo



The partner in crime



Friday night was fun tho. Greg had been commissioned by Hunter University to be part of an art performance installation based on American pageantry. The basis pretty much, explained by Darren, the charming proprietor of the gallery on west 41st street with an odd little Scottish accent, was to remove the barriers commonly found between a would-be spectator and the groups performing in each room of the warehouse. First thing that came to mind was that those barriers are really only there so someone doesn't get knocked the hell out, but hey, this might be fun.



We functioned like a normal guard unit would, showing up late and not being prepared in the slightest. We managed to throw together a few combinations thta most of us caught on to. I remained in the rear to allow for maximum entertainment and least possible injury to innocent gawkers.



And there were gawkers. Quite a few. I was surprised actually. These art show crowds can be quite easily intrigued. But not as surprised as when the Hungarian band came in blasting their sousaphones and saxomophones, skirted dancers in tow and integrated themselves into our attempts at "pageantry". My crew seemed less than amused. I loved it.



The whole shebang was only about 2 and a half hours, but considering I hadn't done this since I was 22, my limit was reached about 45 minutes in. I hung in there because it was my swan song, but I was mostly doing runs and skipping the reps. In the end I gave you a few good takes and can feel good about it being the very last time I put myself on the stage. Curtain call? Nah.



And when I took my water/text/nap breaks Laura, like a good wife, filled in for me. She hadn't learned anything but of course that didn't stop her.





She's still got it.

The evening ended up exactly how it should have. With silk hanging from the rafters and me breaking a light. It's only fair.



The All-Stars of West 41st

Miami Is.... And That's What I Want

Always a trip, literally & figuratively when I gotta teach down in Miami, once again, the least likely place I am ever to be found on a vacation, road trip or anything concerning travel on my own volition. The shiny cars, the fancy style, the heat, it's everything I care not to concern myself with. But duty calls. Someday I gotta screen that call.

CHAYCE!!!

He's gotten so big. And he's talking and asking lots of questions. Granted no one can understand him but that doesn't stop him. He really is too cute and a handful I'm sure. Nothing April & Marcos can't handle tho. At least he's taking an early interest in sports.

Here's the crew outside Ale House Friday night.

Then we went to Focal Point to watch Michael's dance class
where Chayce also took over the dance floor.

Saturday mornings are always a little rough.

But when we smell Marcos cooking breakfast it gives
us that boost we know we'll need to make it thru the day.

Spent a little time being creeped out by Chayce's vast array of Elmo toys.

And then took a quiet moment to reflect on just why I come
down here so often, and what I am doing with this life.

Taught the kids a ton of counts and I gave myself a wicked blood blister.

For the evening we headed to Bahama Breeze for dinner. The grilled peppers stuffed with goat cheese was delectable. And for an entree I had the mango butter pan seared salmon. Eating healthy, here come the holidays.

But this is the real reason I visit Miami.

The genius chop-chop chefs...

And mustard curry to die for.


Now I can't wait to go back, but if someone can find me a recipe for this mustard curry, maybe I can save Braddock some money.

The Mistaken Mechanics

One day Greg & Curtis tried to fix the bus with a hairclip and a bag of M&M's.


When that didn't work frustration began to set in and tempers began to flare.


With his hands dirtied, Greg began to lash out and curse towards any and all onlookers that dare try to inquire as to why exactly they thought they could fix a bus engine.


I have never heard a tirade of such intense animosity and fervor, like a neon fox tongue lapping up the bones of space chickens.

Meet the Staff

Here's some of the people that I spend my everyday with.

Daniel

Daniel is a good old friend. He is just recently acquired a new job and has been watching what he eats. Daniel insists he does not have a foot fetish, but knows someone who does.

Emma

This is Emma & my 11th summer together and I can honestly say I don't know anything about the girl. She constantly challenges those around her by just trying to keep up (literally, I hate you) and just when you got her figured out, she dyes her hair brown. She'll get it together one day.

Curtis

Curtis is a mockingbird, out to rearrange reality and carve a niche into the plodding Santa Fe landscape, all the while leaving time to reinvent his formative years thru the amalgamations of his joy for motion, fervor for creation, and obsession with peanut butter infused mousse. Curtis also does not like moisture.

April

April is the mama of us all, mother to one, and this is the best picture she's ever taken.

Greg

Greg uses words like disconsolate, ursine & sugarwater in perfect, albeit uncalled for and usually misunderstood context, and can work a biblical reference into a conversation about teriyaki sauce. Greg is Stewie Griffin.


Brian (aka: the Jew)

Brian is the wide-eyed optimist youngen among us, but he will soon learn the dark side of the activity and, like us, live everyday in the bitter & macabre shadow of a merciful beast determined to scrape at our souls til we take our final decaying breath.

Michelle

Michelle is a dark disturbing lady. She rarely has a nice word to say and is usually referred to by the kids as "the pain-bringer". And tho I wouldn't recommend it, if you do ever find yourself caught in a conversation with her don't mind the mumbling rants about her 80's obsession & rats in the deer-feeders.


Rory (aka: Cosgrove, Deputy Terry Cloth)

Rory is a hot mess.

Michael

Michael was in Rent. And I think he pays rent, at his apartment, or wherever he lives, I dunno, he's never invited me over. Michael is also a 24 year old black woman.