They originally billed it as a wine tasting, but by the time we arrived at Cobras and Matadors just a few blocks from our house last night, it had been reworded as a Wine Pairing. This was their first event, basically a prix fixe menu of some of their best tapas served with Spanish wines of their recommendation. It wasn't as geared toward wine tasting as the events we've attended at Silver Lake Wine (no anecdotal coverage of the wines themselves), and wasn't as scholarly a review as those we've experienced at the Irregular Wine Tasting at The Echo. It was really about the food:
- Asparagus and goat cheese croquettas (fried...yum!)
- Pork tenderloin with charred apples
- Bacon-wrapped dates stuffed with blue cheese and almonds
- Apple and cinnamon bread pudding with vanilla bean ice cream
Each course was served with something just shy of a full glass of wine, except for the entrée, which came with two glasses. The pairings did a lot to highlight the food. And at $29 a head, it ended up being a really good deal (we've easily dropped twice that at a regular dinner there, for less food and drink.) Recommended! (Just don't eat lunch beforehand.)
This happened:
At the tomato vendor's booth at the Silver Lake Farmer's Market, they happened to also be selling navel oranges. A backpacker-yoga-type guy remarked it was early in the season for navel oranges, wasn't it? Yes, said the vendor.
Yoga Guy: "Well, I'm going to have to contemplate the navels." [pause] "Do you get it?"
Tomato vendor: "No."
Me [jumping in]: "Contemplate your navel?"
Yoga guy: "Yes!"
Me: "Omphaloskepsis is the technical term for that."
Yoga guy: [blank stare]
Me: "Navel-gazing. Omphaloskepsis. I've been waiting to use that word for years."
Yoga guy: "Omphaloskepsis? It starts with Om. How interesting. Maybe that sound crosses cultures?"
Me: "You may be right."
Yoga guy: "I usually am."
Tomato vendor: "Good for you."
What is your earliest memory?
Submitted by Megan.
As I get older, I increasingly doubt my earliest memory, because it seems too early. I couldn't have been more than a year and a half old. But the fact that it's been burned into the ol' neurons since such an early age – I've had this memory with me for as long as I can remember and can call it up instantly – I still can't fully deny its validity.
It's not much of anything, really. The time is compressed or distorted, but I can distinctly remember being passed from my mom to this other presence, this male presence that wasn't my dad, and being walked into what is the back bedroom of my grandparents' house. The presence had a calmness and tranquility to it, and I'm pretty sure I fell asleep.
That's it.
The reason it's significant for me is that it's the only memory I have of my maternal grandfather, who died in an accident not long afterward. Even today, when I walk into that room at my grandmother's house, I know that's where my earliest memory happened.
Tell us about your first kiss. Who was it with? How old were you?
There was a new girl at school junior year. I was the shyest kid in class. It took me weeks to talk to her, and I don't mean two weeks. I mean more like eight or nine. In fact, I think we first spoke to each other on the day before Christmas vacation, when only the good nerdy kids bothered to show up for school, and we just hung out in the classrooms of our favorite teachers. She was beautiful, with long dark hair and huge brown eyes – but equally shy, and had roughly two friends at school.
We picked things up after Christmas vacation and started talking on the phone, but we were never able to see each other outside of school. She lived on the nearby marine base and had a very strict father. Her father was a marine, if I haven't made that clear. A marine.
To be fair, she had been protected from a very young age because of health problems. She had been born with her heart positioned backwards in her chest and had been through a number of surgeries. The girl with the backwards heart.
When junior prom was announced, I asked her, and she made it clear that she wanted to go, but was scared to ask permission from her father. We spent some time figuring out the best way for her to ask. Then she said she wanted a sign of encouragement. I had a tennis match coming up (yes, I joined the tennis team when a classmate pointed out I didn't have any extracurricular activities to put on my college applications). She said, "If you win your tennis match, I'm sure he'll say yes." It was a silly statement, but we needed something to hold on to.
But jesus, I hadn't won a tennis match all year. I played first team doubles with my friend Alex, and we always had a great time, but we didn't really have a killer instinct. We were more interested in playing mindgames with our opponents, but that usually didn't work well since our opponents were almost always beating us. This request was about the same as asking me to swim the English Channel – possible, but unlikely.
I want to say I applied myself and trained like Rocky and beat the living daylights out of our next opponents. It really would be the proper time for a music montage were we making this story into a film. In truth, we had the scheduling windfall of playing the only local high school team worse than us. We beat the living daylights out of our next opponents, who looked like they had been recruited at the last minute from the chess club. Oh joy! I rushed home to call her and share the news.
Her dad said no.
That wasn't the end of the story. Somehow over the ensuing weeks she managed to wear him down and agree to let her go, provided he drove us there and picked us up. I agreed, because I had no leverage.
The day came. We had coordinated my tie with her dress color. My feathered hair was perfect, and she looked beautiful. But I was sick, and on cold medicine. The event was at one of the hotels in Waikiki (I realize I haven't mentioned I lived in Hawaii). It was strange to see all these kids who wore t-shirts, board shorts and occasional footwear to school every day now all dressed up.
The event included dinner and dancing, and we sat at an empty table and just kind of gazed at each other for a very long time. One of the beach bimbos that sat down at our table with us asked what drugs we were on. Dinner was served, and when the dancing began, we moved out to a sofa in the hallway. I said it was because I wasn't feeling well, but really I was scared to death of dancing.
The setting was there. We held hands. Looked at each other. Moved closer. Closer. The theme song of the prom, The Cure's Just Like Heaven, came on. Closer. We stayed that way for a long time. My heart was pounding, and somehow I still had it in my head that even though our eyelashes were fluttering against each other, she still might rebuke my attempt at a kiss. I could feel her breath.
Then one of the teacher chaperones walked by, and we backed off and had to start the whole process over. Not even inching closer. We were centimetering closer. My cheeks were flushed. It had been so long that my leg was falling asleep. Finally, our lips were actually touching, but just the corners. She was waiting for me to turn my head to make it an actual kiss. Waiting. Waiting. I had a conversation with myself in my head, weighing my options, trying to convince myself to go through with it.
Finally I tilted my head, and we were kissing. It was sweet and soft and melty. The whole time I was thinking "I'm kissing her!"
And too soon, the event was over, and her dad was waiting for us in the lobby. We held hands on the ride home, and she wound up catching my cold. The girl with the backwards heart.
What do you do to get rid of a cold or flu?
Submitted by ashenflowers.
I usually suffer and complain and mope around the house. If that doesn't work, I'll resort to bundling up on the couch and watching movies.
What are your top 25 most played songs?
Submitted by Cooxie.
- I'd Rather Dance With You - Kings of Convenience
- Such Great Heights - The Postal Service
- Somebody Told Me - The Killers
- Haiti - Arcade Fire
- Like Eating Glass - Bloc Party
- Everybody's Changing - Keane
- This House Is Not For Sale - Ryan Adams
- Obstacle 1 - Interpol
- It's A Hit - Rilo Kiley
- The Dark of the Matinée - Franz Ferdinand
- White Confection - The King of France
- Nowhere Again - The Secret Machines
- Smile Like You Mean It - The Killers
- The Sporting Life - The Decemberists
- Somebody That I Used To Know - Elliott Smith
- Bitter Sweet Symphony - The Verve
- Beetlebum - Blur
- Unconditional - The Bravery
- (So I'll Sit Here) Waiting - The Like
- Fire Fire - M.I.A.
- Pink Bullets - The Shins
- Blue Orchid - The White Stripes
- Gold Mine Gutted - Bright Eyes
- Since K Got Over Me - The Clientele
- Biggest Star - The Elected
Because I was running errands all morning, I didn't hear about it until a coworker emailed to ask if my family and friends were alright. A 6.5 magnitude earthquake struck off the big island of Hawaii this morning. My mom was outside feeding the birds when it hit. One of the perches fell from the cage and she heard all the plates rattling inside. She had enough time to run to the back of the house, where water was sloshing over the sides of the swimming pool, and all the way to my dad's den, all while the quake was still going.
They're still without power, and only recently got radio and phone service restored. My sister is also okay, but having left California while still very young, doesn't have the earthquake instincts to seek cover. She sat on her sofa and didn't move.
Having experienced the Northridge quake, I'm hoping the aftershocks are small.
All the listings we saw had Architecture in Helsinki opening for Clap Your Hands Say Yeah at the Henry Fonda. Doors open at 8pm, show starts at 9pm. So we got to the venue at about 8:45pm, had enough time to get a drink, and sat on the floor in front of the stage with all the kids. The first band came on right on time, but we were confused. Weren't Architecture in Helsinki kind of a keyboard band with a girl? This was your traditional four guy lineup. And what was with the lead singer's harmonica. The first song was okay, nothing special, and then they introduced themselves as Takka Takka. I leaned over to my girlfriend and said, "Oh, I saw their shirt at the merchandise table. I just thought it was a nonsensical Clap Your Hands shirt." So we left and went upstairs to lounge on the sofa until they takka-takka'd off the stage.
Let me just say this: if you don't have a killer, kick-ass, blow the beanies off your fans stage presence, you shouldn't have Architecture in Helsinki open for you.
Despite the staid, uninteresting connotations of their name, this band is like an Australian version of the Scooby Doo gang, a traveling 24-hour party that roams the country in their Mystery Machine and blows the doors off unsuspecting venues. Holy crap was I impressed. There's a definite percussion/chanting aspect to the performance, and it's enhanced by the fact that these kids genuinely look like they're having the best time of anyone in human history when they're playing on stage. I can imagine shows in their hometown Melbourne turning into sweaty, naked pogo orgies. This is one of the best non-headliner shows I have seen in memory.
Another note: all ages shows suck.
Having established a relatively strong position on the floor, after Architecture in Helsinki wrapped up, I left to get another round of drinks. This scenario is always a bit of a concern, because my girlfriend is five feet tall on a good day, and returning is like trying to find a sewing needle in a pile knitting needles. Also, people are more forgiving when a girl is trying to squeeze her way through a crowd. But, we all make sacrifices.
So right, all ages shows suck. When I got to the bar, there were a half dozen eighth graders standing in front of me. I could see right over them to the bartender, but they were caught up in some scandalous gossip session, one or two of them departing at various times for reconnaissance missions. When I finally got to the front of the line, the bartender said, "One drink per visible wristband."
"What?"
"All ages show. I can't give out more than one drink to each person."
So I ordered my girlfriend's drink. Damn you fourteen year olds.
I squirmed my way back through the crowd and found my girlfriend by a couple of signposts I'd eyeballed around her before leaving: old guy, and big hair guy. She had just ingratiated herself with the crowd by yelling at a 6 foot 5 guy who had dared to stand in front of her.
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah came on. Their name is just egging on the crowd. I don't think I've heard so much clapping along to a band ever. We had obnoxious people next to us who in addition to not clapping in time with the music also felt it necessary to "Wooooooooooo!" throughout the songs and bump into everyone around them. Perhaps I'm just getting curmudgeonly in my old age.
I'm going to say it: Clap Your Hands Say Yeah sound better on their album. The sound was muddy, very garage bandesque, and you couldn't pick out the little flourishes that make every song on their debut album a winner. Their stage presence was flat compared to Architecture in Helsinki, and perhaps that's owing to them not liking Los Angeles (so my girlfriend read in an interview). The crowd really carried their show. All in all, it was fun, and I even liked some of the non-album (couldn't tell if they were new) songs they played. But now I can say I've seen them and not see them again.
Some time ago, with all the concerts we go to, I thought, Hmm. I always buy 2 tickets on Ticketmaster, even when the max is 4 and the show almost always sells out. It occurred to me that if I bought for and sold 2 on Ebay or Craigslist, I could use the proceeds to fund our concertgoing, at least partially.
Enter the first test of this theory: Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. I successfully bought the 4 tickets months ago, but the strange thing was that when Ticketmaster usually allows me to select "Send By Mail (free)", that wasn't an option. Since paying more money wasn't part of the idea here, I didn't want to spend additional funds on priority delivery. And leaving the tickets at will call would be asking for logistical trouble. So I had to choose the "Pay $2.50 and we'll send you the PDFs to print at your expense" option (scam!) Then of course there's the problem that nobody wants to buy home-printed tickets, because what if the person you buy them from prints extra copies and shows up at the gig first?
So, the couple of months went by, and the concert was yesterday. And yesterday morning I remembered I had 4 tickets. And I realized I hadn't done anything with the extras. I posted to Craigslist, but there was also a Sunday night show, and so demand wasn't as high as the time I sold Thievery Corporation Hollywood Bowl tickets in a minute and a half. In fact, my phone didn't ring.
So we went to the show, and rather than sell the tickets for a loss to the scalpers (who didn't seem to have any customers anyway), we left the extra tickets with the doorman to give to some lucky souls for free. Lesson learned.
Read about the concert itself.
If you are going to dress up for Halloween, what will you be? Why?
Submitted by Auweea.
Since I'll be en route to Atlanta on Halloween, I don't have any kind of costume planned yet.
But while we're on the topic, why is it that with women and Halloween costumes, it always has to be a "Sexy __fill_in_the_blank___"... A Sexy Nurse, a Sexy Witch, a Sexy French Maid, a Sexy Devil. How about a Sexy Pepto-Bismol Bottle? My girlfriend is going as a Sexy Tin Man. What is that?
Not that I'm complaining. I'd rather the ladies had sexy than un-sexy costumes. But notice that guys don't do the same thing. Like I'm not going as Sexy Cowboy, or Sexy Dracula. Actually, I'll amend that statement and say that I haven't seen that anywhere outside of West Hollywood. But even then, the guys are dressed as Sexy Nurse, Sexy Witch and Sexy French Maid!
