Handbill Handout

"Where the banshees live, and they do live well". Sorry, I can't say "Stonehenge" without quoting the Spinal Tap song. According to this story , scientists now believe that Stonehenge is an ancient graveyard. Makes sense. When I was a kid, my dad used to say that large tombstones meant the person buried underneath was "A good man, because it's hard to keep a good man down." Hence the heavy rock, get it? I visited Stonehenge back in April of '06. During the day, you can only walk on a concrete path that surrounds the monument and keeps you a few dozen feet back. However, we purchased tickets through the National Trust that allowed us to walk (supervised, of course) inside the ring after normal business hours ended. It was a cold, drizzly day and there were only five of us plus two security guards on the grounds. A tour bus that was supposed to arrive that evening never showed likely due to the crummy weather. So, we were told to linger

Devils fans: Are they engaging in artistic appropriation or is it simply plagiarism? Way back in the latter half of the 20 th century, there was a man from Ottawa named Denis Potvin . Denis Potvin is one of the best defenseman to ever lace up a pair of skates in the National Hockey League. He won personal awards, Stanley Cups and is in the Hockey Hall Of Fame. Denis Potvin ’s only problem was that he played for a suburban team with a limited fan following in the shadow of the biggest media market in North America. This is not his story. It is rather the story of how he inspired a tradition among fans of the team that was Potvin ’s principal (and less successful) rival, the New York Rangers and how that tradition has been copied by the third New York-area hockey team. In 1979, Denis Potvin hit New York Rangers forward Ulf Nilsson and broke Nilsson ’s ankle. Many Rangers fans believe that this was a principal cause in the Rangers’ loss to the Montreal Canadiens in the Stanley

They showed Mike Eruzione during the Pens-Wings game. He now looks vaguely like Herb Tarlek from WKRP . Tonight's comments helped along by Ruvei Barbera D'Alba and Smoking Loon Cabernet Sauvignon . Both go perfectly with the Mrs's awe-inspiring spaghetti with portobello mushroom sauce. minus 1 minute: This must be the week the Gorgon (Lisa, copyright Adam Platt ) goes home, right? 0 mins : The Mrs. blames Bourdain for Dale going instead of Lisa last week. Fair comment, Bourdain has always been a "buck stops here with the head chef" guy as opposed to Collichio who might've sent home the person who executed the crappiest food. Which was Lisa. 1 Please God, no more grooming shots. 3 Damn, a butchering challenge? I've gotta get my Father In Law to critique this. 4 We call FIL . He says "Wow, look at those rib-eyes. They look nice, put them on the grill". They wind up not showing enough to get a sense of how skillfully or properly they brok

The Stanley Cup playoffs continue to surprise me. Not in a good way either. I expected the final a long and entertaining series full of highly skilled, exciting play. Instead it has been largely a snoozefest with Detroit embracing a boring defense-first system that is aided and abetted by referees who appear to have been instructed by the league to call it like it’s 1999. On top of that, we have the sad ballad of Evgeni Malkin. Poor Evgeni is tired. It’s so hard to be a professional hockey player. Listen to his tale of woe from between games one and two in the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review: "I'm just tired," Malkin said. "Practice is long. The season is long. I feel bad." Awww...poor guy. Imagine how he’d feel if the Pens had played more than two games over the minimum you can play in the first 3 rounds and make the final. In just a few days Malkin has gone from being the guy that some overzealous writers called “this generation’s Messier to Crosby’s Gretzky

Yesterday was my first ballgame sine I had cataract surgery last October. It was a pretty special day since my vision had deteriorated badly last summer and when I went to games I could barely see the ball when it was in play. Put it this way: you want to experience what cataracts are like take a pair of glasses that are exactly the wrong prescription for your vision. Then rub a coating of mayonnaise on the lenses. That's pretty much the way I saw the world the tail end of 2006 and most of 2007. I still need to have the procedure done on my right eye, though the condition there isn't nearly as bad yet. My left eye is in pretty good shape; the last time I went to the eye doc for a checkup he said there was a little scar tissue around my replacement lens that he could zap with a laser if it was bothering me and I declined for now. "What would it take if I decided down the road I needed it?" I asked. He said "You would sit in a chair, I would aim the laser in you

He went back to the musty stacks of vinyl and found the “Best Of” collection that had “Better Things” on it. The next chore was to actually play the damn thing. Dan remembered that his older brother had some vinyl and when he was quite small he fiddled with an old record player that had pennies taped to the tone arm to prevent skipping. Dan had never used the vintage late ‘80s Technics models that the station still had for those who played vinyl but it seemed easy enough. He put the album on the table, clicked the turntable channel into “Cue” on the board and hit the big square button on the lower left of the turntable. The machine sprang to life but began playing the wrong song. That’s right, Dan thought, on these old things there were thick bands that separated the songs and you had to put the needle on the thick band before the song you wanted to cue it. Dan found “Better Days” and put the needle on the thick band. Cueing it exactly was another problem; since he had only be

In my yard there are subseasons to the seasons. For example, you are probably aware that right now it is spring in the Northern Hemisphere. In my yard, there are three distinct subseasons to spring: 1. The tree in the front yard blooms . As seen here , third picture from the top. This the exciting, anticipatory part of spring. The metaphorical Friday night of spring. When all things are possible, all good things lie ahead and work and care are far from your mind. Of course, every Friday is inevitably followed by a Monday which in this case is..... 2. Attack of the green slime. Though this year, the green slime wasn't too bad. The green slime comes from one of the neighbor's trees (or it might be one of mine, I'm not sure) and is actually green dust or pollen. Until it rains. Then it becomes a layer of crud the consistency of over-whipped runny mashed potatoes that coats everything and makes one slip on the sidewalk. This year the slime season passed quickly and without inc

A few weeks went by with no calls. Then, on a particularly bitter February evening the studio line blinked again. Dan picked it up. “I need you to play “Better Things” by the Kinks.” “No more folkie Dylan crap huh?” “I’m past that.” Dan scrolled through the library on his laptop. “I’m not sure we have that one. How about “Waterloo Sunset”?” “You have it. Go in the record library” “I’ve got in on screen right now” “Not the goddamn computer thing. The record library. It’s a room. With records. In the back of the station behind the lounge.” Dan had rarely ventured in there. Who needed physical artifacts when you could download anything you wanted to here? Some of the DJ’s who had shows that specialized in older recordings or wanted to do some old-style DJ scratching and mixing used the stuff in the library but most of the staff just played audio files. You could put together a whole set, click once and not have to worry about doing a damn thing for an hour. Made it easy to ge

Before we return to our story, I just wanted to note that Pete Townshend turned 63 today. I was going to post some blather about how his music was (and is) very important to me, the influence it had on many aspects of my life etc etc but that would be more of a snooze fest than the normal drivel that's sprayed here and that piece has been written a hundred thousand times by people who can express those sentiments better than I can. Besides, PT doesn't need any more acclaim least of all from a blog seen by maybe 20 people or so. Instead, I'll stick with our regularly scheduled programming. And now, back to the show. Part 1 here if you missed it. The next week Dan was back in the basement studio with its 1970s tan faux marble floor tiling and 1980s grey walls. A holiday-themed show was assembled on the laptop. It was actually January, but Dan thought it was clever to play Christmas and Hanukkah themed records when everyone was completely sick of them already. It was another

I've said it before: you can learn a lot in a bar. Friday afternoon I'm having a buffalo chicken wrap and a beer for lunch while some guy a who looks to be around 5-10 years my senior is at the end of the bar downing shots of Jack and bottles of Blue Moon. He is pontificating in a way unique to end of the bar drunks. It has that same righteousness as southern preachers or civil rights activists or PETA members or any other true believer you can think of. I'm familiar with the approach as I'm not a bad practitioner myself at times, right down to that moment when you emphasize your point by raising a fist in the ear, wobbling uncertainly on the stool as that action has affected your already altered sense of balance and bringing it down in an unsteady arc to drive your final point home. What made this drunk different than all other drunks? He had a theory as to when it all went wrong that I've never heard before. I've heard the elements before, but like a geni

Dan had just given the legal ID and clicked on the next set of music on his laptop when the studio phone rang. He looked up at it in surprise. He always gave out the number when he did the station ID at the top of the hour but nobody had called in all the years he’d been at the station. It was more of a joke he told himself every week when he did his show on the 5-7pm shift, second to last shift of the day since building security closed the station at 9pm. The station was a 10 watter which in an urban environment meant that it only reached a few blocks and few people ever bothered to click on the internet stream. Friends and relatives mostly, and they never called. Dan picked up the phone and it said “I need you to play “Not Dark Yet” by Bob Dylan” “Who is this?” “Tom from the newsstand around the corner” “Yeah, listen Tom I already have my show laid out on the computer and so I don’t really have room for requests” “Why’d you give out the number?” He had Dan there. Besides, Dan h

The always-entertaining Giles Coren has a great piece on steak in the Times (London, not NY). Well, it’s really a restaurant review, but the bit about steak in general pertains to today’s homily. And it’s also probably a bad idea to post a link to someone who can really write though this blog is built on a foundation of things that are probably bad ideas. Kinda like writing in slang or beginning a sentence with a conjunction. But I digress. When you go to a restaurant, how do you order? Notice I didn’t say what because obviously that depends on the place. I think most people have a philosophy that mirrors their approach in other walks of life. I’m not going to point out or tear down anyone’s approach here; however I will do a little psychoanalysis of my own tendencies for your amusement and perhaps to inspire you to examine your own approach. Hey, it’s what the “Comments” section is for. I tend to order things that I do not/feel I cannot cook for myself at home. What does that say? Act

Today would have been my mother’s 78th birthday. A lot of people who are really into food say that the most comforting food is food that brings back memories of one’s mother and of one’s childhood home. In my case, that’s only a little bit true. My mom wasn’t much of a cook, and because of the person she was she would take that as a compliment. She was a true mid-20th century progressive woman who bought wholeheartedly into the idea of the kitchen as enslavement and believed that women needed to achieve things outside the home. She was even probably a little ahead of her time in that she took the odd college course here and there after having four kids by the mid 1960s (my accidental arrival had yet to occur so if any siblings are reading this feel free to correct my facts – I only know what I was later told). Mom didn’t believe in women “achieving equality” with men, her one-liner was “Why would we want to stoop to your level?” However she did believe that her children should be self-

Looks like today will feature some forced relaxation. LBI was hit by a Nor'easter last night, the 60 mph plus winds woke us up at 3am as outdoor furniture danced around the deck and the windows rattled like an airline in turbulence. We decided to try to leave at noon today figuring the traffic would be minimal and the weather not conducive to, well, anything. Anything including travel as it turns out. The Rte 72 bridge is closed until further notice due to high winds and a disabled truck. Fortunately we were able to u-turn out of the traffic line and come back to the house. So here we sit, wind howling, waves crashing up to the benches bordering the street by the ocean and not a whole lot to do. Ah well, at least we have the house as long as we need it (especially since nobody can get here even if they rented it next). And the power is still on and we have leftover food. I think we'll survive. Sure beats work, that's for sure.

It is late afternoon on Long Beach Island and a cargo ship is sliding south out on the Atlantic. The awsome Glen Jones is on 105.7 FM doing one of his day jobs, the Saturday afternoon shift. It's a very different listening experience from his WFMU Sunday afternoon show but an illuminating one nonetheless. I don't know how much creative control he has on his commercial radio shows though there are noticeable differences from the usual classic rock jock like unusual song selections from the typical roster of artists ("Working Man" from Rush instead of the dead horse that is "Tom Sawyer" or "The Immigrant Song" from Led Zeppelin instead of the dreaded you know what with the bustles in the hedgerows and whatnot) and interesting footnotes when one of the hoary old warhorses is on the playlist (he notes that "Carry On" by Kansas was on the soundtrack to a little-regarded 1975 movie called Heroes that starred Henry Winkler and Harrison

You don’t have to worry. It’s not the proverbial three hour tour. And hey, it’s free so what could possibly go wrong? A lot if you don’t know what you’re doing. Before I begin, a disclaimer: Recently there apparently have been lots of problems with evangelical Christian preachers roaming the boat during the morning rush and early evening rush hours. Because my office hours end a little later than most and because I have to come down from midtown I hit the tail end of the evening rush. Apparently these preachers have gone home by the time I get there. Either that, or my choice of seat locations is preacher-free (another reason to listen to my advice). The first key to a good ferry ride is properly positioning yourself in the terminal. Most nights I don’t care about being first on or first off the ferry because getting a seat on the Great Kills local train is not an issue. So I’ll hang back, even step outside on the patio behind the escalators and enjoy the weather. But if you m

Finesse. I think after 5 plus years of trying to learn to cook at a higher level I might be finally incorporating a little finesse in my game. I’m very excited about it. At the market on Saturday we bought ramps for the first time. Ramps are an onion-like plant that appears in the spring and you can use the whole plant from the small bulb to the pink stem to the greens. I found a recipe in Gourmet for ramp soup and decided that would be Sunday dinner. On Sunday morning I got up and started a pot of chicken stock using the necks, wing tips, etc I’m always accumulating in my freezer. I waited until the last hour of simmering (about 6 hours later) to add the mirepoix because I had read in multiple places that simmering veg for more than an hour adds cloudiness and off flavors to stock. Following that advice, I wound up with a paler but much clearer and lighter tasting product. So far, so good. I used the stock in the recipe as instructed and followed the rest of it to the letter

Anyone who has spent a significant amount of their working life commuting in the tri -state area will tell you that there are certain strategies and methods used to make the experience less annoying. These strategies vary depending on what mode of transport one uses. Some of us have to use multiple modes of transport (in my case I often do the NYC subway-Staten Island Ferry-SI Railway combo when evening traffic looks ominous) so you need a plan for every step of the way. As a public service, I will offer you my tips and strategies for dealing with the journey that I have developed over 23 years (and counting) of commuting to and from Staten Island to the other boroughs. Today’s lesson will be handling the Broadway Local (R, W lines) from midtown to Whitehall Street/South Ferry. Know where the doors are: The biggest key to getting a good position on the train (or sometimes even a seat!) is getting on the train first. Proper platform position is your key here. Observe the train wh

NY Times . "...They created a New Orleans party, the kind that simultaneously defies sorrow, affirms continuity, heartens the locals and draws eager tourists..." Yep.

For people of a certain age (probably 40 or better) the term “Slide Show” doesn’t exclusively mean a series of pictures on a computer screen or a PowerPoint presentation. Back in the mid to late 20th century, people used to take film photographs and quite often they would have them developed on small translucent bits of plastic surrounded by cardboard. These were called “slides” and they were viewed using by shining a light through them and either projecting them onto a screen or wall or looking through a hand-held magnifier. Americans (I’m not sure if slides were popular in other countries) would gather ‘round the slide projector after vacation to look at the pictures they had taken. It was a social activity, sometimes people would have their friends over a few weeks after a big vacation to have a few drinks or dinner and then you’d have a slide show. It was so popular it even became a punch line to jokes since so many people found looking at other people’s vacation photos boring

There’s not much that would drag my sorry self out of bed at 7:30 on a Saturday morning. Opening day of the St. George Greenmarket is one of those things. Walking around the market with my wife, coffee in one hand and bags upon bags of produce and protein in the other is a happy Saturday morning ritual, kind of a light on a hill that helps me slog through the work week from May to November. There’s something about meeting the people who produce your food and shopping out in the weather (whatever that weather is) that makes getting groceries a joy instead of a chore. The market could wind up being the highlight of the weekend as I will most likely see both teams that I pull for be eliminated from the Stanley Cup playoffs. I’m more surprised than I should be given that I knew this year’s playoffs lacked a clear-cut favorite. The one team that continues to surprise me is the Flyers who are this year’s poster child for the meaninglessness of the regular season as long as you get into the p

Poor Roger Waters. Or more accurately, poor inflatable pig Glad to see I’m not the only one with balloon problems. The more I read about this story, the more I wondered what ol’ Rog was thinking (never mind what the hell he was doing at what is typically considered an “indie rock” festival). Does he even listen to his own lyrics? I realize that the pig is currently being (incongruously, in my mind) as a prop in the live performances of “Dark Side of the Moon” even though it was created for the much underrated “Animals”. “Animals” is my favorite Pink Floyd album even though all it did was take Orwell’s “Animal Farm” allegories and apply them to the business world instead of politics. It did it well, and the archetypes have been sighted in real life many, many times since I first heard the record as a teenager. The pig represents the song “Pigs” (duh) which opens thusly: “Big man, pig man Ha ha charade you are” For the current tour, Waters had the word “Obama” written with a che