This is why I could never do T.V.

. . . becuase the same thing would have happened to me. Shame on his producers for not warning him beforehand!

Warning: Although funny, it's almost too uncomfortable to watch, especially if you find the one with subtitles.

McLovin taunts Viva

I imagine that a doggy dream goes somewhat like this

Run-In

Last night I walked to the park where I frequently take my dog for an off-leash run. It is not a designated off-leash area, but it is quiet and there is a small community of regulars that bring their dogs to do the same. Although leery of newcomers the clan accepted me once they realized I was worth my weight in dog. If your dog is game, mine will run yours into a sublime coma for the rest of the night. I was warned that cops sometimes patrol the park and ticket people for having dogs off-leash.

So it was no surprise to see the NYPD in the dark distance as I approached the park last night. My mind flashed the telltale warning sign that Oprah often refers to, but like a young grasshopper not yet savvy in the way of Oprah, I ignored my instinct. I thought that maybe one of my doggie clan brethren was captured and fined, and I wanted the 411! My dog was on leash after all; I was doing nothing wrong.

As I approached the scene I passed some guy with an ugly, leashed, shag mitten of a dog that I had never seen before. His matted mess started to bark at my dog, while the man quieted his dog he could have kindly taken the opportunity to tell me not to walk any further - instead he practically ushered me towards the po-po - 20 yards away, watching me with glee as I sauntered by the patrol car. I saw two young teens, a girl and a boy standing at the drivers side window of the two cop carrying car. The cops reminded me of the ones from Superbad, and they seemed green. The kids had that just apprehended face on.

"Hmphf...just some little trouble makers." I thought, as I strolled past the vehicle

"Do you have ID on you?" the passenger cop asked the side of my face

I pondered for a minute since I usually leave my affects at home.

"Yes" I replied. "Is there a problem officer?"

"The Park closes at dark" he stated, "wait here"

I was irate, "I didn't see any sign - where is it?" and just as I was about to get started with the excuses I relaxed at the thought of what was in my pocket.

The stone faced officer went back to writing up a ticket, "am I being written up?" I innocently asked.

I wondered, is now the time to use it, why not! I fumbled to present my license and what was behind it. With the finesse of inspector Clouseau I presented my ID, along with my cousin's NYPD badge, and perhaps with a higher than necessary decibel level announced my "sister's" (cousin's) name and rank. Having an undue nervosa around the authorities and furthermore lying in their presence - my heart may have lost its rhythm for a minute.

The altitude changed and I felt the air thin in an instant. I was no longer a mere denizen. Wanting to keep this new found brotherly love to ourselves the officer drew me close and motioned of in the distance,

"Go sit on that bench and wait for us." he whispered as if we were all in on this bust.

Still nervous from the exchange I sat on the bench and caught my breath. After three tickets were written up and everyone left, the cops pulled up to me - gave me a their practiced warning, and let me go. Whew! I felt exhilarated and empowered - it was the first time I ever got away with anything. This glee was followed by the consideration of the incident as a microcosm of corruption, followed by more joy!

A disgruntled treatise

Just to counteract the humpday humor.

A very astute outlook on where I work, by a job applicant who has never been here, responding to a position that is posted constantly.

One reason your dog is mentally unbalanced

For the first time ever, this Halloween I will relish in the boderline-diabolical practice of costuming my dog for Halloween. This video turns the tables, exemplifying another ruthless method of putzing out your pet for your own entertainment.

The gods must be crazy

Last Wednesday, It was a day full of routine. I take the train home from work, robotically alight at my stop, as I am thinking of the evening’s activities, I am pelted forcibly in the back of the head with a dense object that feels geologic. I turn, no one behind me on the platform, across the platform no one is snickering, I disqualify the elders and focus on two potential manboys of rock throwing disposition, walk calmly away. I see no object. I continue to walk forward and swiftly reverse my head back again to see if they’ve turned. They are still waking calmly away. I look up. WTF?

Hump Day Humor

Courtesy of Martin Short and Synchronized Swimming....

Chicken in Milk Recipe by Jamie Oliver

I have listened to many chefs rag on celebrity chef Jamie Oliver for his inauthenticity and poor food. I have made 2 of his dishes so far and each has been fabulous leading me to believe that these chefs are just plain jealous. His recipe for lasagna is moderately difficult, time consuming and is one of my favorite all time recipes. Last night I decided to try one of his weirder sounding recipes: Chicken in Milk - and the pay off was huge. It is stupidly easy, cheap and made my apartment smell so heavenly, I knew that my neighbors were jealous, did I say leftovers?
Usually I find chicken so boring, but I am already thinking about when to make it again. Two notes, my grocery store was out of sage, so I substituted thyme. Next time I will prepare the dish with sage and compare. Also, I did not use organic chicken - so don't fret you frugalistas!

chicken in milk

serves 4

Preheat the oven to 375°F, and find a snug-fitting pot for the chicken. Season it generously all over, and fry it in the butter and a little olive oil, turning the chicken to get an even colour all over, until golden. Remove from the heat, put the chicken on a plate, and throw away the oil and butter left in the pot. This will leave you with tasty sticky goodness at the bottom of the pan which will give you a lovely caramelly flavour later on.

Put your chicken back in the pot with the rest of the ingredients, and cook in the preheated oven for 1½ hours. Baste with the cooking juice when you remember. The lemon zest will sort of split the milk, making a sauce which is absolutely fantastic.

To serve, pull the meat off the bones and divide it on to your plates. Spoon over plenty of juice and the little curds. Serve with wilted spinach or greens and some mashed potato.

ingredients

• 3½lb organic chicken
• sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 4oz of butter
• olive oil
• 1/2 cinnamon stick
• 1 good handful of fresh sage, leaves picked
• zest of 2 lemons
• 10 cloves of garlic, skin left on
• 1 pint milk

• 3½lb organic chicken

• sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

• 4oz of butter

• olive oil

• 1/2 cinnamon stick

• 1 good handful of fresh sage, leaves picked

• zest of 2 lemons

• 10 cloves of garlic, skin left on

----------

* UPDATE

I made the Chicken with the sage this past weekend, and I think that I might have liked the Thyme better! The sage gave it an earthy taste, but i didn't taste the flavor in the same way - perhaps I did not use enough sage due to Mr. Oliver's vague measurements. Here are some photos of the prep and finished product:

South African Photographer Mikhael Subotzky

In 2008 there was an exhibit at the MOMA by South African photographer Mikhael Subotzky. I could not stop looking at his work, and had to be pulled out of the small exhibit of the South African prison/desert town Beaufort West. I often find that photojournalism or documentary photographs are very clinical and detached. Mr. Subotzky’s has the ability to tell a vivid and layered story from what appears to be an entrenched perspective. He portrays his subjects with a beautiful balance of non-sentimental warmth within stark landscapes.

I could never pull off Maria Callas...

This morning while in the shower I was thinking of Halloween costumes when Maria Callas popped into my head. When I was younger I picked up a book of pictures of Maria Callas before ever hearing her voice – I was instantly fascinated by this behemoth of character that came across on the pages. There is one image in particular that sealed the deal for me – a paparazzi photo of, Callas walking behind a small behatted man and spewing dragon’s fire at him.

I came across this description of Maria Callas from Diana Vreeland’s book, Allure. Her recount of Callas’s transporting performance in La Traviata chokes me up. There are those once in a lifetime performers with such raw, elemental human emotion who can sonically conduct feeling. I believe that Aretha Franklin is one of those people.

Here, Vreeland describes meeting Callas, and the anticlimax of her off-stage disposition.

For years, I couldn't get over Callas. There is a paparazzi picture of her I had tacked up on my bulletin board in my office. It's a killer-diller! This, to me is Callas.

I knew her - just. One Thanksgiving, I had five or six people in for lunch, people who had no other place to go - Europeans and so forth. A friend called.

"Diane, chere," he said, "may I bring Maria? I think you two should meet. I know she has nothing to do, and as her oldest friend, I don't think I should leave her alone on Thanksgiving. Would it be all right if I brought her?"

"Listen," I said, "can a duck swim?"

So she arrived - the greatest actress in the world. She wore black Milanese clothes; her hair, which she wore in a pony-tail, was literally this thick; her manners were beautiful; she was very, very, sustained emotionally; she made things very clear emotionally - she was everything you would expect of Callas. We sat down at the table. Then, suddenly ... the veil dropped. She was as common as mud. I didn't know anyone could be that ordinaire and still know how to use a knife and fork.

Yet on stage she was the most extraordinary performer I have ever seen in my life - ever. Once we went to see her in Traviata. We were in the second row. I remember the boulevards and the tablecloths and the crowds going by and the men and women having something to say to each other and the men talking to each other about business and the women talking to each other about mmm ... clothes - and however else the chorus starts. Then ... there's a break in the crowd and you see a man and a woman sitting at a table talking and she looks at the audience and a note comes out.

She just opened her throat. But I want to tell you that a tenth of a second later I was totally drenched, I mean totally - it had nothing to do with crying or weeping. It was shock. It was total electricity. I had been prepared to hear the most dramatic singer in the world, but this ... and by God, when she died, was she dead. I've never seen such a death scene. On stage she didn't have a gauche thing about her. She was unique. That's a word I use sparingly.

Gold Coast Mansions

The Beacon Towers a replica of an Irish Castle.

I have always wanted to do a self-guided tour of Long Island’s Gold Coast Estates. I once worked at an office that kept filming locations and many of these amazing mansions were featured. Some have been demolished and many still exist, and it seems that a lot of of these are private so it may be a rouge tour! Although the legendary Tiffany Estate - Laurelton Hall was destroyed by fire, I believe that some remains still exist! I found some great resources to help me plan my trip.

The Central Hall at Laurelton Hall


http://www.ligoldcoast.com/liruins.html

http://www.dowling.edu/library/linksd/links.asp?ID=277

http://www.oldlongisland.com/

http://www.goldcoastmansions.com/

http://www.bygoneli.com/bygone/gold_index.php

Go watch a movie in Paris

I studied in Paris during the spring of 2002. I don't care what anyone says about the French; France is glorious and magical. Conside their geographic position the French are the flank between for the Kraut's eye for detail and the more relaxed Spaniards penchant for zany and whimsical life-lust. The parks, the stores, the food. It's the best city for walking with no destination.

I spent a most of my time wandering solo rather than with the prevailing ASIP (American Student in Paris) Mafia, often surrounding myself with the comfort of comprehensible books and magazines at the American Library. I lived in the garment district with a host family, a direct and kind single mother and her 8 year-old daughter who initially hated/blamed me for being displaced from her bedroom. They shared a loft-type room, and I slept in an 8 year old's bedroom fully stocked with an 8 year bed, books, toys and a desk. I had a small space heater which I was not allowed to use nor was I able to do any laundry until after midnight.

My block also happened to be the red light district. Starting in the early morning the women would claim their corners. Among the scurry of commuters, fashion buyers, seamstresses and the prostitutes both fit in as a matter of routine, and stood out by standing still. My block seemed to have the lower real estate value. The women were conventionally unattractive and tightly, but conservatively clothed. One block down, however was the show - the thigh highs, the quantity over quality of cleavage, hair, and makeup was superb. From the 8 year old's bedroom window, I watched the men follow women into the hotel with blackout shades across the street. The guard changed at night and counter intuitively only a few of the working women persuaded.

Insultingly, on many levels, I was once asked "Combien ca fait?" or "How much?"

--

Some of my fondest memories of Paris were going to the Cinema I can unnecessarily remember every movie I saw and at what particular theatre. For example, the first movie I saw in Paris was Amelie for the second time on Rue St. Lazare. After reading a biography on Orson Wells I got from the American Library I watched Citizen Kane at a revival theatre in the Latin Quarter with French subtitles; “boutone de rose!” I also saw the ticking time bomb Britney Spears in Crossroads with a theatre full of suppressed, groaning men, (not dissimilar to 1997 when I was in high school on a summer trip to Paris, we caught Kama Sutra at a theatre on the Champs Elysees, an experience pretty much identical to the opening track of Lil Kim’s Hard Core).

I remember how hundreds of energized people lined up at the les Halles theater, some in costume, for Star Wars Episode II Attack of the Clones. I remember being shocked by the extent of the Star Wars fan base in France. That was until the scene when Natalie Portman acts after falling out of a plane and the stadium sized crowd cried in laughter. I wasn't sure if these scene got any laughs in the U.S. but after that, these Frenchies felt like my people!

Another fabulously feisty crowd moment occurred at la Pagode, a spectacular Chinese inspired theatre in Paris (pictured at top of post) I saw Woody Allen's movie Hollywood Ending, which follows a blind director played by Woody Allen through the process of making a colossally terrible movie. At the end the punch-line is that his film is unanimously praised in France and Woody Allen's character is canonized. I can't tell you what a moment of perfection that was. Here I am in France, watching an American movie blasting the Gallic tendency to over appreciate art. The audience, hotly bothered by this assertion - went wild, screaming at the screen, a garcon next to me asked in earnest, "WHY! WHY! IS IT ALWAYS THE FRENCH?"

--

But it was a breakdancing French movie called le Defi (the Challange) that stole my heart. The plot was easy to understand, fun, with some fresh b-boy moves. I have been looking to buy/download the dvd/soundtrack for years now, and am finding it very difficult to find. There were a few big band tunes by Matthew Herbert which I loved seeing in contrast to the modern moves. This still remains the definitive movie of my French travels, and I would love to see it again someday.

Le defi sur Comme Au Cinema

While we are on the subject of youth, here is another iconic image from my childhood, from Tina Turner's Single Let's Stay Together. For whatever reason this album was always around. Tina staring at me MadMax style. Now I don't know what's going on in this photo, but Tina is a bad ass!

Jane Fonda Workout Video

This Video was very prominent in my youth - my mother attempted the routine on a few occasions, as did my sister and myself as a 5 year old (on the rare occasion when mousercise was not on the 45). I remember thinking that the woman was crazy, and not really doing much of anything that would qualify as a workout. Years after Jane was retired from the VCR, her image loomed in the closet where she was stored. She looked down at me with that zealous endorphin grin every time I needed outerwear. That isotonic-sci-fi iridescent blue hued leotard, that was absurdly high cut, that belt? And what about that poor lone XY Chromosome, in no man's land, the excessive butt and thrust shots. Classic!

Chris Farley is Alive and Well

The NYC subway ads for Oxygen’s new show The Naughty Kitchen caught my attention. Based on the poster it’s impossible to tell what is a naughty kitchen? The poster looked just like the subway ad’s for Oxygen’s other show: Dance Your Ass Off. Is it a weight loss themed version of the addictive Top Chef, or some kind of network televised food porn? So when I drove by the show on T.V. last Tuesday night I kicked it into reverse rolled down my window and let the typhoid typhoon that is Blythe Beck into my living room.

Turns out it is a restaurant reality show featuring a spunky Dallas chef who will chicken fry, cream whip and butter soak anything. The show is unwatchably watch-able, and I am totally haunted by Ms. Beck. Where did she come from, how did she get to where she is, and why? Although she seems to have some kitchen chops Blythe Beck is like a freakish amalgamation of every Chris Farley fempersination, with a little salty sprinkle of his Chippendale dancer thrown in. For reference see Gap Girl and Zagat couple:

I just can’t get over the resemblence, you must watch this show!

#68590 "spaniel mix" 1 y/o female avail 5/4

#68590 "spaniel mix" 1 y/o female avail 5/4
Originally uploaded by racemo207

I think I found Viva's long lost relative!