1) I made up a 2nd batch of cabbage soup the other week. Only when it was done and I realized that I was almost out of paprika that I decided to add some vinegar, to make it like a Romanian corba. Only, I hadn't bought any parsnips for the soup, so the soup wasn't as good as it could have been.
2) On the bolt-latch to my apartment, the 2 small screws that hold in the plate keep popping out, and though I kept screwing them back in, they'd always pop out (perhaps because the screw-holes were stripped?). I had thought of superglue-ing them in, but I didn't have any, so rather a few weeks ago when I was chewing gum, I took a little piece off the gum and stuck it in the screw-holes, and then put the screws back in on top of that. Now they stay in place.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Friday, March 4, 2011
1st bar of my quest: Wed. night.
So, on Wed. I met my one friend who used to deliver singing telegrams after she got out of her waitress job gig, and we went for drinks at this place a couple doors down from her restaurant.
I had walked past this bar a few times - it's like right by the subway stop - and I had always wanted to go there, but I never had. It's a very mysterious place, with this door that opens into an alcove so you can't see in, and the window on the street is full of those window-glass panes that are opaque so you can't see in that way either, and the bar looks very dingy from its dirty wood siding out front and dirty dark brown-painted door.
Inside, however, the place was a miracle: the door opened up into this 40s-ish lounge, with a curved bar, and soft soft lighting, and a big white statue behind the bar over a fountain, and a laminated sign advertising $3 margaritas.
"I thought you'd like it," my one friend who used to deliver singing telegrams said.
She thoroughly endorsed my plan to go to all the bars in the city.
"I love bars!", she was like, and she said she always wants to go in every interesting bar she sees.
She asked me if I was going to rate them or take notes, and when I said maybe notes, she said I should maybe put down my favorite thing about each place, and then we both agreed that the soft lighting was the best part of the bar we were in.
Later, she was reminiscing about playing Ophelia when she was with a travelling repertory theater based out of Omaha, Nebraska, and about how they'd do Hamlet in the morning, then Robin Hood for kids in the afternoon, and a Cole Porter revue at night. There were too many set pieces and so the cast revolted to cut it down...
She also remembers how in one place where they played for a couple nights in a row the balloons that got let off at one point in the Cole Porter revue the previous night started drifting down from the ceiling during the middle of the Robin Hood show, and Little John (this 6'3" huge guy) had to lean out over the fake forest and catch balloons from backstage so they wouldn't hit the actors.
I had walked past this bar a few times - it's like right by the subway stop - and I had always wanted to go there, but I never had. It's a very mysterious place, with this door that opens into an alcove so you can't see in, and the window on the street is full of those window-glass panes that are opaque so you can't see in that way either, and the bar looks very dingy from its dirty wood siding out front and dirty dark brown-painted door.
Inside, however, the place was a miracle: the door opened up into this 40s-ish lounge, with a curved bar, and soft soft lighting, and a big white statue behind the bar over a fountain, and a laminated sign advertising $3 margaritas.
"I thought you'd like it," my one friend who used to deliver singing telegrams said.
She thoroughly endorsed my plan to go to all the bars in the city.
"I love bars!", she was like, and she said she always wants to go in every interesting bar she sees.
She asked me if I was going to rate them or take notes, and when I said maybe notes, she said I should maybe put down my favorite thing about each place, and then we both agreed that the soft lighting was the best part of the bar we were in.
Later, she was reminiscing about playing Ophelia when she was with a travelling repertory theater based out of Omaha, Nebraska, and about how they'd do Hamlet in the morning, then Robin Hood for kids in the afternoon, and a Cole Porter revue at night. There were too many set pieces and so the cast revolted to cut it down...
She also remembers how in one place where they played for a couple nights in a row the balloons that got let off at one point in the Cole Porter revue the previous night started drifting down from the ceiling during the middle of the Robin Hood show, and Little John (this 6'3" huge guy) had to lean out over the fake forest and catch balloons from backstage so they wouldn't hit the actors.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
A Conversation with my one British friend: JPII and Catholicism.
The other week I was having lunch with my one (British) (Muslim) friend, and I was talking about JPII's questionable relationship with molestation cover-ups, or at the very least inaction on the subject.
"So how can you be a Catholic?", he was like.
When I said I really wasn't one, he was like, "But no, you are, it's your religion, I thought. I'm surprised that you don't say that not all Christians are like that, that it's not really a religion of abuse and terror, that there are many good Christians out there and you shouldn't judge them all by a few bad apples - you know, all that. I find spiels like that quite handy and I always have them ready."
"So how can you be a Catholic?", he was like.
When I said I really wasn't one, he was like, "But no, you are, it's your religion, I thought. I'm surprised that you don't say that not all Christians are like that, that it's not really a religion of abuse and terror, that there are many good Christians out there and you shouldn't judge them all by a few bad apples - you know, all that. I find spiels like that quite handy and I always have them ready."
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
JPII and the Protestant press.
I was telling a colleague about the NCR articles on JPII and his relations to the head of that one order (you know, that one), and 1st of all he couldn't believe that he hadn't heard about the scandal.
"You couldn't make that stuff up," he was like. "And this is more unbelievable than Dan Brown's fiction!"
He also said that 50 years ago or earlier, the Protestant popular press would have loved to tie a pope in with a cover-up of molestation, but they wouldn't know, because they're allies on the culture wars.
He was definitely excited about some broader but less common intellectual issues raised by the NCR articles, about who writes history and why, and how journalists create sources that historians will later use, but historians now don't use them, and how journalists with political and religious commitments try to overcome those and be fair-minded. He said that he's been researching the lives of some figures tarred by Communist sources, and he wishes he had access to living people to get to the bottom of it!
"You couldn't make that stuff up," he was like. "And this is more unbelievable than Dan Brown's fiction!"
He also said that 50 years ago or earlier, the Protestant popular press would have loved to tie a pope in with a cover-up of molestation, but they wouldn't know, because they're allies on the culture wars.
He was definitely excited about some broader but less common intellectual issues raised by the NCR articles, about who writes history and why, and how journalists create sources that historians will later use, but historians now don't use them, and how journalists with political and religious commitments try to overcome those and be fair-minded. He said that he's been researching the lives of some figures tarred by Communist sources, and he wishes he had access to living people to get to the bottom of it!
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
My great new idea:
I'm going to visit EVERY BAR IN THE CITY.
I already have some ideas - I'll make per-neighborhood maps for every neighborhood in the city limits, and count as bars everything that's a bar or a restaurant with a bar where you can go in and sit down and order a drink there and not feel funny. I won't count venues that serve liquor but you have to get a ticket to get in (e.g. concert halls, or airports).
I've notified some friends and they're already psyched.
I already have some ideas - I'll make per-neighborhood maps for every neighborhood in the city limits, and count as bars everything that's a bar or a restaurant with a bar where you can go in and sit down and order a drink there and not feel funny. I won't count venues that serve liquor but you have to get a ticket to get in (e.g. concert halls, or airports).
I've notified some friends and they're already psyched.
Monday, February 28, 2011
The beginning of Glory van Scott's section...
...in "I WAS A NEGRO PLAYBOY 'BUNNY'" (fyi, it's 10 chapters, and only the 1st is by a Playboy Bunny), pp. 62-62:
I guess you could say I'm pretty lucky. I'm 23 years old and I've already performed in several Broadway and off-Broadway shows. I've sung and danced on such TV shows as Ed Sullivan's and the Colgate Variety Hour.
I've cut a single record for a major label, have a record album in the offing and am currently preparing to star at the World's Fair -- singing, dancing, in a show sponsored by an internationally known business.
Yes, I'm lucky.
For I am a Negro girl.
And I am not a Negro girl with the honey-colored skin of Lena Horne, or the pale bronze texture of Diahann Carroll.
Lena Horne once told me: "You have large eyes. Their color is like black velvet. Your mouth is large, yet both tender and sensuous.
"You have truly dark African features. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen."
Yes, I have very dark brown skin.
And I glory in its color.
...
I guess you could say I'm pretty lucky. I'm 23 years old and I've already performed in several Broadway and off-Broadway shows. I've sung and danced on such TV shows as Ed Sullivan's and the Colgate Variety Hour.
I've cut a single record for a major label, have a record album in the offing and am currently preparing to star at the World's Fair -- singing, dancing, in a show sponsored by an internationally known business.
Yes, I'm lucky.
For I am a Negro girl.
And I am not a Negro girl with the honey-colored skin of Lena Horne, or the pale bronze texture of Diahann Carroll.
Lena Horne once told me: "You have large eyes. Their color is like black velvet. Your mouth is large, yet both tender and sensuous.
"You have truly dark African features. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen."
Yes, I have very dark brown skin.
And I glory in its color.
...
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Bunny Parties!
"I WAS A NEGRO PLAYBOY 'BUNNY'", pp. 48-50:
In case you're wondering, after I refused to pose nude, I was never asked again. I mention this again because I know many people probably think I was asked to pose just so the photographer could get an eyeful...
They picture the Playboy Clubs as embodiments of the Playmate of the Month.
Wild affairs carried on among the customers and the Bunnies!
And even wilder affairs among the Bunnies and their employers!
Midnight photo sessions with dozens of nude Playmates and great handsome photographers, professional and amateur, with no film in their cameras!
Neo-Roman orgies in the executive suites of the VIP's!
Fifty dollar tips for "services above and beyond the call of Bunnyhood!"
I know everyone is just dying for me to tell them that these antics are just the preliminaries compared to what goes on behind the doors of the Club and private "Bunny Hutches" scattered around New York.
I hate to be a party pooper, but I just have to confess that compared to these fantasies, the real 'behind the scenes' activities are like an ice cream social!
I've been propositioned more times in Macy's in one afternoon of shopping than I ever was in four months as a Chocolate Bunny.
I've been to wilder high school parties -- behind my own doors -- than an after hours get-together at a Playboy VIP's apartment!
Let me tell you about a Bunny After Hours Party. First of all the girls don't run around in a Playmate's costume, that is, skin, skin, and more skin. As a matter of fact, they don't even wear their Bunny outfits.
As I've said, after eight hours of wearing a boned costume and walking on three-inch heels, the only thing you can think of getting into is some comfortable clothes...
Every after hours party I attended, I wore slacks and a sweater. And I kept them on all evening!
Did the Bunnies have to protect their virtue every second at these parties? Hardly.
For one thing the Bunnies always out-numbered the men. In fact, often the only men there were Hugh Hefner and his brother Keith.
Most of the conversation was shoptalk and what we hoped to do eventually in show business.
Many time show business personalities, such as Paul Anka, would drop around to the party. But to be frank, I never stayed that long.
...
In case you're wondering, after I refused to pose nude, I was never asked again. I mention this again because I know many people probably think I was asked to pose just so the photographer could get an eyeful...
They picture the Playboy Clubs as embodiments of the Playmate of the Month.
Wild affairs carried on among the customers and the Bunnies!
And even wilder affairs among the Bunnies and their employers!
Midnight photo sessions with dozens of nude Playmates and great handsome photographers, professional and amateur, with no film in their cameras!
Neo-Roman orgies in the executive suites of the VIP's!
Fifty dollar tips for "services above and beyond the call of Bunnyhood!"
I know everyone is just dying for me to tell them that these antics are just the preliminaries compared to what goes on behind the doors of the Club and private "Bunny Hutches" scattered around New York.
I hate to be a party pooper, but I just have to confess that compared to these fantasies, the real 'behind the scenes' activities are like an ice cream social!
I've been propositioned more times in Macy's in one afternoon of shopping than I ever was in four months as a Chocolate Bunny.
I've been to wilder high school parties -- behind my own doors -- than an after hours get-together at a Playboy VIP's apartment!
Let me tell you about a Bunny After Hours Party. First of all the girls don't run around in a Playmate's costume, that is, skin, skin, and more skin. As a matter of fact, they don't even wear their Bunny outfits.
As I've said, after eight hours of wearing a boned costume and walking on three-inch heels, the only thing you can think of getting into is some comfortable clothes...
Every after hours party I attended, I wore slacks and a sweater. And I kept them on all evening!
Did the Bunnies have to protect their virtue every second at these parties? Hardly.
For one thing the Bunnies always out-numbered the men. In fact, often the only men there were Hugh Hefner and his brother Keith.
Most of the conversation was shoptalk and what we hoped to do eventually in show business.
Many time show business personalities, such as Paul Anka, would drop around to the party. But to be frank, I never stayed that long.
...
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