beards and beers in Austin TX

On our golden day in Dallas, while most of the cast was at the Cowboys game tailgating and watching Tony Romo break another rib on the jumbo tron [because why would you watch the field?], a small group of us drove 3 hrs to Austin. in the middle of the dang state. Monday morning we pulled onto S Congress around 1pm. Halfway there, after Belton TX, down 35 south we went under this big cluster of Highway interchanges, kinda like that famous section in Dallas where 5 highways intersect. This was Waco...Definitely more metropolitan than I remember seeing from the news footage of the Branch Davidian compound in that field where that David Koresh had his creepy operation back in the 90's. I did have a sneaky suspicion just to go out to that spot and see what was left. probably not much. The idiot burned it all to the ground along with himself and 74 others. Maybe a memorial to the brainwashed?

We got to Austin. kinda like driving up to a green oasis in the middle of a desert. The 5 of us-Lee, Larkin, Emily, Jared, and I parked the car on Congress and made our way up to hopdoddy http://www.hopdoddy.com/...this local wonderland of Austin. Emily had eaten here before so we followed her lead. We agree'd looking around at the locals that there is an unusual amount of facial hair in Austin. I noticed a group of ZZ top looking guys on our way into town. particularly beards and mustaches. a little '70's show' vibe mixed with the 30 something young professional women in their lululemons. And black people. True they've embraced the whiteness but yes, black folks too. I like this town.

hopdoddy's a burger and beer spot and their philosophy is they only serve food natural-from the earth/tree/pasture/sea/nest. And as close to home as they can get. If you cant identify it in a lineup, its not on the menu. Good place, open, spacious. They get it right. something difficult to find in NYC. In NYC, new burger places pop up every few months-offering whatever word will get their yoga gluten free conscious clientele in the door. but they don't do it well. either its too Ikea ish-gray plastic decor looking and mediocre burgers that remind you of Astoria Queens or its over the top health conscious. Either way, theres always the vibe you get where they try too hard to please. I had a tasty lean medium well Bison burger with blue cheese on a brioche bun with some St Arnold Lawnmower beer. before going to explore, we went down the block and booked a room for the night at the Hotel San Jose https://www.sanjosehotel.com/index2.php.

My old grade school mate who I met up with later, Ed Hansen, told me about the history of this place. My first impression is it looked like a chic little boutique hotel. Turns out it used to be a shady motel in a seedy part of town that supplied the prostitutes and crack heads a place to do their business. The neighborhood and S Congress were gentrified and the rest is his history. The story is explained, he told me, in the documentary 'The Last Days of the San Jose'.

We headed up Congress for funky trinket and vintage shopping. It reminded me of the Little Five Points section of Atlanta. Austins hot. Its situated smack in the middle of Texas like the valley in LA where all the heat is directed to the lowland where Austins comfortably shaded with elm and cypress trees. for how hot it gets it's amazing that its still as green as it is and not a drought wasteland like you'd expect, especially given that they haven't seen a significant rain, Eddie tells me, for over a year. And that was a hurricane passing through. We ran across the street to the Sno-Beach food truck for something cool. a Horchata flavored sno-cone pick me up and then across the street to the Big Top Candy Shop for their drink of the day...a classic [real sugar] Dublin Dr Pepper and coconut cream soda. I forgot the name.

At dusk we headed toward downtown to watch 1 and a half million Mexican bats fly out from under the Congress bridge to blanket the sky in search for food. There's not a sight like this. Just a sea of bats flying in one direction over blanketing couples and kayakers on the edge of the Colorado river underneath. And they just keep coming out. Probably dropping a load of their guano on them too. The dry heat rising up from the water make the stench of the guano even thicker. And, I feel weird saying, kind of nice. Like the way I smile over the painty smell of gasoline. Only guano smells more like moldy banana bread...if you can imagine.

My boy Ed Hansen from my Clay High School days met up with us at Cedar Street Bar on 6th where Jared's friend Matt was playing piano...and we toasted to the drought. Ed makes dentures for a living... it was fascinating listening to him talk about his job...and about the meth addicts and elderly who are solely responsible for keeping him in good business. Basically if you need new teeth on the cheap, ripping your teeth out and adding dentures are the best solution.

Ed mentioned that we were in luck because Dale Watson was playing at the Continental tonight for only $5 and we could still catch his set. Dale Watson is an Austin legend. Just a maverick...sporting the shiniest most silverest fox pompadour you'll ever see. He's got to be one of the leading Nashville and International honky tonk artists of his time, spanning a few generations. I got lost in the onstage banter that follows each few songs, complete with a ditty about a cab driver, Carl who was there that night. If I'm that much of a stud when I'm his age, I'll be happy. The night ended with a MILFy drunken woman singing Patsy Klines 'Crazy' into my ear asking me if i'd sing along with her. It mustve been her warm breath pressed against my ear that gave me goosebumps because she she wasnt exactly on pitch. She pulled away wiping tears from her eyes and I told her she gave me shivers...she admitted, covering her eyes and embarrassed, 'I'm crying'. And sure enough she was. The night got ahead of her but I wont take the credit for bringing her to tears-I aint that special. Maybe it was an ex-husband...or maybe it was Dale himself who was the heartbreaker. PS-if you look close, there's quarters that stud his guitar fender. apparently the quarters were from his earlier days when fans would boo and throw them onstage.

Dale Watson and his Texas Playboys

We ended the evening walking up East 6th, [Austins very walk accessible as well] past the string of bars and clubs that looked like the Ybor city strip in Tampa, until we reached Lustre Pearl and the taco truck that was attached to the backyard. Its basically part of this section of neighborhood where houses have been sold and turned into bars. They hollowed it out and stripped some of the old walls and it makes for a fun little atmosphere. Between the rustic vibe indoors, the bier garden backyard, and the ready to use hula hoops, they've got a good formula. The fish taco at the taco truck with the Shiner bock hit the spot.

Lustre Pearl exterior

Inside

Early the next morning, before we hit the road, we got up and went to Barton Springs Pool...actually its a big natural spring that stays 65 degree's all year round. It was so clear and clean. At the deepest part, you can look down and see the grains of green algae swaying on the rocky floor.

Barton Springs Pool

downtown New York City in 8 hours

the NY Times does a column once a week in the travel section...about a 36 hour guide for select big cities around country. Its been my saving grace for towns we've explored. Especially Atlanta. This is my tribute that brilliant morsel of a column

A couple weeks after we opened on Broadway in September my boy Julian texted me 'for a good day meet me at the BM.' The 'BM' [Brick Mansion] is his tenement on Mulberry Street near Canal smack on the edge of Little Italy and Chinatown...this newly renovated brick apt that youd imagine Steve McQueen wouldve lived in in his late twenties... exactly where you'd picture 2 Colombians, a fashion PR girl (Sandra) and a costume designer (Julian), to live. Or the set of Woody Allens next movie about a fashionable couple who've mastered the art of space...fitting shoes under coffee tables that fold into chairs. racks of clothes spilling out into the living room. And it STILL doesnt looked as cramped as it is. its so interesting how they manage to do that. Its an art actually. thats when I ask myself....'why do us New Yorkers have this weird false sense of pride about being able to 'tolerate' living in a city amongst millions of people? Its like that article a few years ago in the Onion...8.4 Million New Yorkers Realize New York City A Horrible Place to Live.' Unless your rich:) I still wonder...

When the phone rang he caught me in that perfect mood...just the text I wanted to see when I woke up inspired from my dream.  Because I swear I must've been dreaming about my cooking show when I'm 50... when all my mates and nieces and nephews and my sister Margarets Patsy Kline band comes over to my garden on the Big Sur coastline. Where we sample all the fine local produce and pick apart a suckling pig and pickled everything! There are many facets and choose-your-own-adventures to this dream but this'll do for now.

Asia Dog

10am We took a swig from the Makers flask and head out to our first destination...just around the corner is Asia Dog. You pick your meat and your topping. I got the beef hot dog Wangding style-with pork belly and scallions in a light yummy chili paste. And then I sampled the beef dog, Bahn Mi style (pork pate with pickles, cucumbers, pickled carrot and daikon, cilantro, and jalapeno). the flavors on both were all right and not on-point as you'd think from the ingredients... but my problem honestly was the regular white and wheat Wonderbread bun they use. In theory a Wonderbread hot dog bun sounds perfect right?-that throwback taste. They need something more crusty that wont dry up or get soggy, which these both did. Its just a little more pricey than you think but if I'm paying for a gourmet dog, it needs to be gourmet all around.

Barrio Chino

12pm to asbord the Makers we went to Barrio Chino (which means Chinese Hood) Theres no sign outside. You walk in and its all brick walled and dark with cool vintage Chinese decor...when we asked about the chili infused section, our waitress brought over some samples of jalapeno and habanero infused tequila. Ay DIOS MIO! Ayudame! Estoy En Fuego! Be Careful. These will singe your nose hairs off....Although its intense, the heat only lasts for a few minutes and leaves your mouth feeling satisfied with a slight chili aftertaste. I ordered the pork and pineapple tacos and the ceviche camaron (just the basic lime, onion and cilantro) and the Sopa de pollo. My tamarind Mojito and Julians Dark Ginger Mojito was MUY RICO! Everything was on-Point. One of my favorites int he city. Already been back once before I left...

2pm Julian told me we had to check out Cafe Habana on Prince and Elizabeth. but first...directly across the street lies a string of cool clothing and vintage clothing shops, in particular is this spot Unis. Now its a bit on the pricey side but what makes it special is its got that nice blend of fashion, urban, and sporty that stays classic and never goes young or urban outfitters cheesy. Its stuff you'll keep forever...assuming you don't loose it. I bought a burlapy backpack and a teal bandana that, to this day, I have yet to find that  Caribbean blue shade in anything close. So yes, the bandana from heaven was worth my $16.

Julian and Lee have arguing about whos got the best Elote (EE-low-tay) or Mexican style corn. Everyones got their own spin and its hard to believe that some basic corn can taste so slammin good but Cafe Habana's threw me through the hot tin roof. Its grilled to a crisp, add a thin layer of mayo, chili powder and lime...and thats it. Hands down the crown of the king corn goes to Habana. I washed it down with a popular Cuban drink, the Chilada [or Michelada as its been called]...a good beachy summer drink-Mexican beer (Cornona, Pacifico) and lime juice. I had to get the Cuban sandwhich. The gooeyness from the cheese and pork shoulder meatiness was almost overwhelming but in a good way, in a full stomach way. Id say it was a close tie with the Spotted Pig's Cubano which adds prosciutto and pickles but still worth the effort hearing the grumblings from the hipster to my left trying to read his newspaper. Thats one thing about places like this...for such a down home feel that it projects, the people waiting, and serving for that matter, treat it like a cool kids club. I'll still come back tho:)

Hester Street

3:30pm We followed our instincts down to the Hester Street Fair but it was closed. So with another swig of our warm Makers, we decided to crash the Thompson Hotel Pool. Julians roommate Sandra had met up with us at this point and his sister Vanessa was to meet us here to add to the fun. We had assembled our own little posse.  We passed the belhops and followed a man into the elevator and asked him where the rooftop pool was again [as though we forgot] and up we went. Gentlemen if your in the city and really want to impress your girl, for a cool down from the stifling heat, forget Jones Beach or Rockaway...instead, pack some sliced mango's and dark chocolate and and bring her up here to the Thompson rooftop incognito style like you own the place, get Champagne service, and find some beach chairs away from the dj...This will be a good afternoon. And its not one type of crowd. Everyones between 20-40, wanna-be European clubbers, hipsters, models, white, black, latino...Most of them probably couldn't afford the luxuries of the Thompson but want to live it while they can. Which makes it more fun and laid back for the rest of us. The rectangular pool in the middle of it all, like anything so precious and cool at this hour on a hot NYC day, was overflowed by the Europeans and we get that splash in our eyes every few minutes but it never gets annoying. Instead, you just vibe off the music, admire that we're all in this together, and bounce your body to the thumping music. The only people I felt bad for were the apartments across the street that with a good leap, I could jump to.

Thompson Hotel 

Freemans

Ms Sheik and Thomas joined us at Freemans before she left us high n dry...we miss you Mama

5 bottles of Rose and a few packs of cigarettes later,  5 pm we headed to Freemans. More suited for a sexy late dinner spot, this place is so tucked away from the city and the lower east side, you could live here your whole life and never know it was here. Its down an alleyway past an 80's sports poster shop that Freemans also owns...bringing back that era when posters of sports stars and their signature shoes became uber popular, you feel like youre in a Jeff Koons Exhibit. The Bash Brothers-Canseco and McGwire, Patrick Ewing, classic Jim McMahon looking like Don Johnson on a 'Chicago Vice' poster. And at the end of the alleyway, past the strings of Christmas lights is Freemans. No name anywhere. It speaks for itself. Rustic American food and drink. Old Victorian high celings and busts of every animal imaginable line the walls like a hunting lodge museum. We ate here a few weeks later but I saddled up to the bar next to the young couple getting drunk like us in the afternoon. I ordered the Sazerac, my new favorite drink-a mix of Rye Whiskey, Peychauds, and bitters.

To fit in our last bit of downtown before going to the show...oh my god we still have a show to do...5:45pm We went to the Meatball Shop. Its situated right around the corner of Katz's deli due east of the Sunshine Theatre. The vibe was better than the food, which wasn't bad but nothing to run home about. The perfect tribute to an old school Italian meatball shop with vintage pictures of fat old men and greasy moustaches, lifting weights in one piece bathing suits. Almost like if you turned a turn of the century barber shop into a little meatpie factory. You pick your meat, your sauce, and your starch [like Mashed potatoes, or Polenta, or on a roll]. I got the vegetarian [blackbean] meatball with pesto and polenta. Not the best combo and then later tried a regular beef and marinara meatball on a roll. Much better but I have to say the best part about the place aside from the decor, oddly enough, was the bathroom. Which, speaking of, Habana-also a good spot to pee, was voted best bathroom in NYC. There's nothing like the surprise of a good bathroom to lift your spirits back up.

7:30pm we reached the theatre...unscathed but exhausted, dehydrated and headached BUT satisfied. I couldve ignored the wake up call and stayed in and cooked food but I realized the whole point of NYC in the summertime was exactly this-crashing hotels and eating good....and a few drinks sprinkled in between. Otherwise we might as well be in Dallas.

Best leg of lamb and mint oil with honey & vinegar roasted parsnips & carrots

I never understood Americans obsession with beef. let me rephrase. not so much that its beef is that its pretty much only beef.  It's our preferred meat by miles, at least since white men stepped onto the continent. As a culture, as westerners it's hard to accept that our diet is that limited but its kinda true. It really doesnt feel like we eat much meat outside the range of cattle and chicken. And I never understood why. Don't get me wrong-there are cuts and parts of the cow I would devour in a heartbeat. Some ribeye or oxtail can taste incredible. There's something about lamb when you cook it though thats more tender and almost juicier than beef a lot of times. I never understood why it never caught on more, outside the southwest. Its on every menu in New Mexico. And healthier. With proper Salt and olive oil, it crisps up around the edges like no meat...I remember Seder/Passover night smelled like this. There's nothing like it. For dinner for mom and Iris tonight...and to prep for my painting day tmw, re-imagining the flamingo room in the basement, I pulled out an old classic recipe for mom...my creation spawned from scrumpets at the Breslin. It was well good too! And it may not be HGTV style but I'll make the flamingo room posh!

Nicks Best Leg of Lamb 

To the sheep!  Firstly wash and pat-dry and admire your beautiful leg of lamb. With a sharp knife, Make about 3-4 1 inch deep slits on both sides. grab a handful of basil and oregano and/or rosemary and bash them up in a pestle/mortar [or food processor or chop by hand] with 3 whole garlic cloves, 1 lemon rind, a few glugs of olive oil, salt and pepper. Take the rub and spread it around the entire leg with both hands. stick good chunks into the 8 slits with your fingers. It should be gloopy and be able to smear around easily. Set this aside on a platter. 

carrots/parsnips & spuds

turn your stove up to 325F. get a mandolin, peel and quarter 4 long thin carrots and 4 parsnips. If you want potatoes-I know we don't eat them a lot these days but when they crisp up from the lamb fat you'll seriously wonder why you ever questioned it. If you want potatoes, get 4 medium yukon gold potatoes, peel and half them. toss them all in a roasting pan large enough for your leg, separating the potatoes on one opposite side. drizzle a few glugs of olive oil, season generously with sea salt & pepper. heres the fun part. On the carrot mix, drizzle about a tablespoon of honey and 1 tablespoon of apple cider or champagne vinegar over the top and mix them around. Now toss all the veggies together and create a bed in the middle for the leg. lay the leg across the top of the potato bed and tuck in. You'll roast this in the oven for  2 hrs. midway give the leg a baste and scuff the potatoes around on another side to get color spread around. for the last 20 minutes however, turn the heat up to 375 and blast that crispness. remove from the oven.  you'll need a meat thermometer now. this is not the point where you want your meat to run dry as this meat can and this will help with the exact medium doneness factor. it should be between 150-160 inside the leg. Now wrap the leg up in foil for at least 15 minutes to retain moisture while its still essentially cooking inside the foil. toss the veggies in for another 15 minutes, take out and set aside. when your hungry guests arrive [ it serves 6], carve thin slices on all sides holding it lengthwise and pour a quarter of the reduced juice from the bottom of the pan through a strainer and over the meat. save the rest as au jus. keep the bone and a good amount of trimmings intact to boil up to make shepherds pie. serve lamb and veggies together....now dip the lamb in that mint oil :) enjoy

mint oil

get this going while your legs in the oven. I don't know where the mint 'jelly' thing ever started but this mint/vinegar concoction is much more tasty and pucker. grab a handful of mint and throw in a pestle/mortar or food processor. add 1 tablespoon of wine vinegar and hot water, 1 teaspoon of sugar, a few pinches of salt and a glug of olive oil and bash/mix till almost a paste. You may have to mix it around with a spoon a few times. put into a small bowl and set aside. room temperature is fine for a few hours. 

Disney & the Holy Land

I want to know what was going through Walt Disney's head when he decided to set up shop in Orlando. I DO know he was looking for a much bigger [east coast] alternative to Disneyland...Florida was just then kicking off as a major US touristy spot at the time and so...that's where he put it...for whatever reason, away from any moving air, smack in the middle of the state and into humidity the likes of St Louis in the summer-and its bad. He chose Orlando because, he said "the freeway routes. they bisect here."

I'd never seen Disney World or Disneyland or anything Disney as a kid and was always jealous of my suburban friends who came back [freshly bronzed] from their family vacation or spring breaks to Disney world. My vacation would be my mom sending me on a jog around the block when I got too hyper. Take note all you Ritalin obsessed parents. It actually worked. If any vacation was happening it def wasn't to Orlando. More likely to cub scout camp or a family reunion by way of our Chevy suburban.  The only Disney I got was on Sunday nights sitting down watching 'The Magical World of Disney' on our Zenith TV with popcorn and cheddar cheese squares.  You can imagine the fantasy building up in my head over the years.

This idea of finally getting to see this place had been brewing for awhile. Ever since Atlanta Lee had talked up this 'drinks around the world' at Epcot and how he couldn't wait for that first day off in Orlando with the rental car and the open road and Mickey & the gang there waiting to take me out for my first beer. Maybe in Scotland. Or perhaps a nice cold Guinness from the English country women who looked more like they were working as 'wenches' in Medieval Times and less pub-like but that's just me.  It was a free ticket too, courtesy of some friends of ours. Even though to redeem our ticket we had to be walked in at 9 in the am. This is a difficult task we've found, trying to be anywhere by 9 these days. let alone coordinate a small group. But we did it. Epcot was the last leg of our one Disney day and we got a good 2 hours around the world, sometime around Morocco before the bars, and the world actually, shut down like clockwork at 9 and the parade started lumbering down Main Street. It was the end of the day. And everyone grabbing their spots on the sidewalk for the big light show that's just starting..a cool mash up of all the family photo's taken at the park that day together with flashes of Disney movie's set to a track of Disney instrumentals. everyone around me just squinting trying to catch their second of family proof that they were a part of Disney history...or at least in the Disney Polaroids.  I never did see that Mickey. and had since envisioned him getting sloshed with Minnie & the gang at the employee canteen. Who knows where he was.

We left after the parade was over. Julian and I actually joined in the parade trailing behind the American flag float as it left Main Street hoping to get that last bit of thrill we seemed desperate for at this point, waving and smiling at all the family's we passed. Sort of like the 'African' women we passed in Africa at the Animal Kingdom standing in their Dashiki's waving and smiling, looking like their bosses were right around the corner telling them to smile bigger or else:)  I realized as I sat down with Kacie and Thomas and the crew across from Space Mountain why I felt so exhausted and a bit confused. I was tired because we were in the sun all day. [And for whatever reason we didn't ride one roller coaster.] We saw a couple live shows and a 5 minute virtual movie. otherwise, dozens of trams later, the most exciting part of the day had to go to the Animal Kingdom. Or maybe it's the nature nerd in me but I coulda stared at that Berenstein Bears tree all day. watching each individual plastic leaf sway with the breeze as if i were on some psychadelic trip. And the animals were just fun to watch, period. especially Sally the Silverback.

But I realized why I didn't have that pang on satisfaction that normally comes with so many days well spent-traveling around, exploring. Disney, as much as it tries, is not for adults. At last single adults. Its for kids. And for family's with kids. When I told this to friends in the show who either worked there or had their own childhood experiences they seemed more disappointed and less accepting that this was what I had to say about the parks.

Sally the Silverback

The Tree of Life

'But its magical.' said Shaleah, looking at me wondering what was so hard to grasp...

I suppose if I had their Disney experiences, coming from a nostalgic place as an adult, I'd probably feel different. I will say from a business standpoint, Disney's got the hook down. They flash some images, play some music and it works. No doubt they've figured out how to tap into that nostalgic part of our brains and keep it there. For me though, I felt like the guy in the room who didnt get the joke...or who calls out the magician because he see's the trick. Either way the park needs a serious renovation. I cant imagine they'd be hard up for cash but the 80's never felt so 80's. And I don't buy the excuse that the unique thing about epcot is that its supposed to be stuck in the 80's. Why would you do that on purpose unless you REALLY did it proper. which, even at the time it was built I know they did not. And drinks around the world, although fun, is not enough to keep the adults happy.

However...we did see the Holy Land Experience the next weekend. My $30 ticket to see a betrayed Jesus walking through Nazareth across from Home Depot, crucified, and risen instantly made up for any regret I felt at Disney. If your in Orlando save your extra cash and go see this. Just be ready. And stoned if possible.

Cocaine Cowboys

Day 2 Lee, Julian, and I drove the rental car out to Little Havana, out near the Miami airport to Versailles, a staple for everything Cuban around south Florida-the kind of place that will rush you in as soon as they push you out to set the table for the next customer in 2 seconds. Where at any point you'll find a guy with a mop or vacuum cleaning up the spot to make way for the next wave of hungry Latino's. Even though Julians Columbian and Lee's a big old Jew, other than another white group who came that were clearly just as curious, we were definitely the only 'gringo's' in the joint. And the decor is nothing short of a good Greek Diner in Astoria. kinda like the fancy cafeteria vibe of my fav Vietnamese spot Pho-Bang in Elmhurst Queens. The floor is always drying. And the food was tasty but like anything Cuban or Dominican or Puerto Rican for that matter, after the first few bites you realize what you're getting yourself into. it's just starchy as hell [and fried] and you cant stop! I never realized, even with the starter basket of bread, how good white bread and butter are especially when you're hungry. We had enough food for a boat load of fleeing Cubans! Fried yuca with garlic cilantro sauce, fried sweet plantains, fried snapper, tres leches-which had I discovered as a teenager, along with cafe con leche-my new favorite coffee, I'd have diabetes and lactose intolerance by now but so happy I found this little unassuming treat.

Day 3 we had an idea. we were on the hunt for a good hotel to crash and it came to him. "The Fountaine Blue" said Lee who'd been here once before. So we put on our 'yes, we definitely belong here' faces that we do so well and walked through the lobby to the pool and the ocean side. We're getting embarrassingly good at this crashing hotels thing. I suppose its pretty easy if you walk right in and act like you belong but we seem to have perfected the air of the out-of-town guest. the rich refined guest. Where nothings a big deal but you. Its amazing what kind of opportunity's open up for you when you just pretend like you belong. We walked in through the lobby like Oceans 11, out back to the pools, past the European family's with their white Polo's and their pushed up collars and who might as well be in Capri, the tattooed and comfortable looking hip-hop group ordering colorful drinks at the bar. I've definitely seen them before.  Maybe their tattoo's look familiar. That's another thing-I've never seen so many tattoo's in one town. Its beautiful but what does this whole army of tattoo's say about South Florida? I haven't the slightest but trying to come up with a logical answer other than some underground gang. So we ordered Moet and berries and toasted to the start of another successful day. The pools are nice but why stay here when we could sneak back to the boardwalk and the cabana's and commune with the beachgoers...

"we left our key with our friend inside" Julian tells the Cabana boy who could see the promise of gratuity on on our foreheads a mile long and runs off to fetch us towels. we found our spot right behind the tattooed Asian wanna bee's.  This is the life. We came back the next 2 days and did the same thing.

Miami is a lot like LA except the people here aren't as smart. They're not as savvy. And maybe they just don't care to be. Or just haven't bothered to figure it out. Either way, when you have all that room for disappointment it leaves a whole lot of people-watching for the folks like us who know better:)

noon

Our apartment view reminded me of the place in 'Cocaine Cowboys' where they rented by the inlet just to have a lady sit inside and watch the harbor with binoculars and a CB radio ready to give the coast-is-clear to the smugglers coming in or coast guard alerts. White walls and marble floors, white pleather swivel lazy boys, glass coke sniffing tabletops...it was kinda perfect for a plastic week here. It must have been pretty futuristic looking in 1988. My favorite moments were in bed though. Management gave us a pullout bed in which I setup on our wraparound balcony. Nothing like huddling up underneath your covers, feeling that extra strong breeze past your face watching the stars on a clear night. 6:30am was tough though. When that sun comes up above the water, every morning I took my panorama and sleepwalked inside to fall back asleep on the pleather.

6:00am time to go inside

Tampa and the Benefits of Aloe Vera

Cephas Gilbert tells it like he sees it. On a humid Friday afternoon in Tampa we took a visit to see Cephas down in Ybor (EE-Bor) city northeast of downtown on a culinary tip from Kit, our company manager who's from the area and had visited here a few years back. Kit waved me into her office one day last week and said she knew about our little food adventures and confessed that she was in fact a 'foodie' herself and we should do ourselves a favor and head down to Cephas' Hot Shop. she promised that it would be an 'experience like nothing else'. And she was right.

Back in the day, Ybor city was called cigar city. Vicente Ybor moved his cigar rolling empire from Cuba to the keys and eventually to Tampa where he set up shop and the northeast side proudly adopted his name. Today Ybor city, like Mulberry Street in little Italy, is reduced down to one big strip where the Tampa folks get their rocks off on the weekends. A strip of gay bars and clubs and trashy girls out front trying to lure you in. Much like the crowd you see cruising South Beach or on the weekend except Ybor seemed more reasonably priced. 

Tucked back in the side streets of the main strip on a bare looking block and old boarded up houses on the corner sits Cephas Hot Shop-basically an old store front with painted splashes of the Jamaican colors and giant leafy plants dotting the sidewalk. The bright murals of the Caribbean map, the Rastafarian last supper depiction, and another mural of 7 men's faces-white and black- on the Jamaican flag all caught my eye. And off to the side we spot a bar and a man standing out on the sidewalk, where the bar spills off. He's chatting it up with the bartender behind the counter. The bartender I'm guessing wasn't Cephus since Kit said he talked a lot. Very personable. and this guy was was not saying much.  The man on OUR side was having a drink-aloe I'm guessing. His name was John. No joke-with glasses this John couldve easily been my honors calculus teacher in High School...maybe on his way pick up the kids from the mall before headed out to the 'burbs'. kinda the last guy you'd expect looking so at-home at Cephus', whatever this place was. It turns out this is a twice a week spot for him. Mainly because John's Cephus' webmaster and is updating the site, taking pics, etc. But clearly a fan. John points to an entrance on the other side of the building. 

You walk into the backyard onto a playground. A place I could see my brother Tim owned if he lived in Jamaica. I thought It was all sand till I looked down at every last inch of white carpet. It was a carpeted jungle in the middle of the Caribbean, about a half-a-square blocks worth. Unbelievable. An entire stage on one end, a garden on another, and a big thatched hut smack in the middle with some diner booths around. All dilapidated and perfectly cozy. And here he comes. The man of the hour arrives. Its Cephus. Unapologetic and ready to roll off the simple menu.

"If you hungry you bedda eat," he says in his Jamaican drawl. 

"We got curried goat, oxtail stew, cod fish. Dat's it."  

He points his remote toward the stage and clicked on the Billie Holiday over the loudspeakers. I got the curried goat. It smelled like New York and I tucked in for some good eatin. Cephus got comfortable and goes into health benefits in Aloe Vera. and not holding back. Like if we didn't leave there completely convinced he wouldn't sleep right. Then again his life didn't seem too rough, @ 60 even with 15 children he fathered from 5 women, he later told us:) After hearing we were from NYC, he called one of them up from Long Island and put her on speaker phone as she talked about how she missed him.  

"Where was I? Da Stomach. Dere's only one person who godda big belly. A female. She carry it from day won to mont seven to mont nine...after that anybody who gotta full belly-I'm sorry you no eatin-is fulla shit!....you eat pork? (we nod) GARBAGE! shrimp? GARBAGE!" 

He makes a bicep and pulls his skin out. And then sized us up. Of course immediately I have to show him I'm just as worthy. Yeah! I'm proud to say I eat well so I curl up and pull my bicep out. 

"You doin alright" he says looking at me like I too was a junior honorary member of Cephas' fit club.

John interjects "Give them a chance to eat," he pleads with Cephas, apologizing to us for his friend. Now I'm rarely one to walk in and out of a place completely convinced of something as major as a diet change but after he brought us around and we finished our meal on his aloe smoothie, I was sold. I take that back. mostly sold. I did some aloe research and couldnt find one negative thing. Digestion, cancer fighters, immunity builders, eyes, skin, and the list goes on. He cracked open some Tamarind, his 2nd favorite medicine and I had a bite. Something I'd always seen up in Washington Heights but I never actually eaten. Like a sweet and sour date. and then he finished it with his homemade cinnamon-ginger tea which helps digestion after a meal.

He held the aloe up like he was gutting a tuna and cut into the flesh getting every last jelly and pulpy bit. He tossed it all into the blender with ice and blended till fluffy and frothy. "Now rub it all ovah and then put it in the sole of ya shoe!"he said, pointing to the now empty Aloe leaf.  And there we were, on the corner of 14th and 4th, on his word to 'hurry' rubbing aloe leaves all over our faces and neck and feet. And for whatever reason we kept speeding up:)

It was an experience. And I was sad to leave but happy to get back for the 2nd show and brag to all the folks coming back from the Cheesecake Factory that I had an aloe leaf in my shoe. and let me say for the record, as suburban and gaudy as it, The Cheesecake Factory is still damn tasty. 

Atlanta

the day after we arrived in Atlanta, while the rest of the cast was getting their nature fix at Stone Mountain, Lee and Julian and I cabbed it to the Little Five Points neighborhood in Atlanta...not to be confused with Five Points on the other end of town. Halfway through the trip our cab driver started mumbling something up front and realized he was taking us to Five Points and not Little Five Points. So he turned off his meter and we sat back and enjoyed the scenic detour around Hotlanta on his dime. I realized as we tumbled along the winding streets back to our destination, if you took all the people out and just left the geography of Atlanta, it looks a lot like LA...Silver Lake actually. but with a lot more shade-something that the south has not not lacked so far. Strip malls, tatoo parlors, even the way the streets wind around eachother, it was very reminiscent of LA.

We get to Little Five Points which is basically just one lengthy bohemian block-and a few side streets-of mostly vintage clothing stores, beer houses, a music video shoot around the corner, Ardens Garden-this Atlanta juice joint which could easily put Jamba out of business. ironically they use all natural ingredients. An area that could keep a hipster from getting to antsy. After a little retail therapy we hit the Porter Beer Bar and sat outside for some people watching and Bells Beer. Look out for Bells from Michigan btw. they serve it all over the country now. Rule of thumb-don't order the salt and vinegar popcorn. The concept seems perfect...till u feel like you have a pepper mill lodged up your nose.

We took the MARTA to Ebenezer Church. Not just Atlanta but for the whole tour, I have to say this short visit was by far the most chilling and powerful experience thus far...There wasnt any sign indicating the site where you get off the train, which I thought was odd. The only notice was a few blocks up. on a small pole in the ground that says Ebenezer Church, showing an arrow to the left.  We'd have missed it if it werent for the homeless guy who brought us up the the street where you turn. You look up at the light up sign and walk in. Something you really cant grok till you're in there, sitting in the pew of Dr Kings old Baptist Church where he preached. this was powerful. and chilling. Not even for what it stood for but a ghostliness and sturdiness about it all. and also very bright and clean Its also where many of the Civil Rights meetings, rallies, etc would take place. An old recording plays on repeat of Dr King's echo as to give you the full experience. We found out [from the blind security guard in his park ranger khaki's] that they only opened it a few weeks ago after a three year renovation to bring the church back to its original structure...back when MLK was co-pastor with his dad in the 60's. Also some damn good research for 'Hair'.

Dr Kings birthplace

The light that came through the stained glass was so bright. There was a picture behind the pulpit-one of those glow up screens of a forest with a river slinking off into the distance -like those light up pictures you see in Chinese takeout places in New York City. Its the first thing that catches your eye walking in because at first glance it doesnt look like its supposed to be there. Then again, you take another look and it oddly fits in. much like other parts of the church like the lobby displaying pics of Dr King Jr. and the gift shop. It was interesting trying to imagine being here in 1968, taking in one of MLK's sermons and a message, a truth that went way past these church walls. Knowing that you were one of the few people in a congregation to say you watched these guys lecture must be a pretty cool feeling. The original stained glass that lined the walls was a major part of the renovation. Like Washington on the dollar bill with their head and chest as though stamped into history, they were pics of MLK, MLK senior and the grandfather King on top. I was still wondering what that blind park ranger would have done if I decided, quietly of course, to go dance on the pulpit.

I heard about Decatur from a New York Times article I read on Atlanta. After the MLK experience we were craving some southern food but Paschalls, where MLK and other civil rights leaders would gather and eat on Sundays, was clear on the other side of town but we needed to eat. what else is new? So Lee and Julian and I headed out to Decatur, nestled into the west side of the city. If Berkeley and Mayberry had a love child, Decatur would be the end result. It has that old town charm with the civil war monument standing in front of the old courthouse and the cobble stoned streets and then one hipster restaurant after another. also something I dont ususally see... on the main drag of town at least 5 old dry cleaners or filling stations were renovated and converted into restaurants and galleries. Seems like a step in the right direction if you ask me. We stopped into Leons http://leonsfullservice.com/ right outside the Marta stop for some bocce ball and a sazarac, my new favorite drink...and then continued onto Cakes & Ale http://www.cakesandalerestaurant.com/ but like a lot of restaurants at 3 in the afternoon, dinner service doesnt begin till 5. So We got advice from some of the townies and headed to Watershed, the Indigo Girls spot, one of these old filling stations turned restaurants. The vibe was a little too lesbian beachy for me and it was right on the line of being either hipster casual or fine dining. Couldnt tell. But the food was on point. the beet and pistachio salad, the smoked pork belly bahn-mi and the fried oyster sandwich were all slamming good southern food and made up for depression I felt for Arnold Schwartzeneggar. Poor guy. That womans not even cute!!

the flaky buttery flying biscuit

ps-for breakfast in Atlanta, the flying biscuit is your ticket. be prepared to wait for at least a  half hour tho most days. Its well worth the wait...http://www.flyingbiscuit.com/

Skinectudy, NY

Stockbridge Mainstreet by Norman Rockwell

I'm confused about Schenectady. This was the city we joked about when tour started probably because it was the smallest of any cities we're going and the name brings up an image of some kinda forgotten town. like another Flint Michigan story. Just a lot of proof there was once a heyday for Schenectady. Sadly most of the people tho, aside from the few business types that pass on their lunch break, at least the ones roaming downtown, they look like they're on meth. And, like my hometown of South Bend, you start to wonder what happened to that once bolstering city

In the historic district downtown called the Stockade, these protected houses predate the 1700's-we're talking 1650-OLD for our country. As I'm walking down State Street through the small stretch of town, aside from half the buildings with  empty store fronts and the remainding few scattered New Agey head shops and Mom & Pop used book stores, you realize its not totally wiped out. After all, they CAN fill an entire 2500 foot equity theatre house for 7 days. Another mystery about towns like Hershey and Hartford-where do they come from? seriously. But yes, its evident Schenectady is trying everything possible to revitalize whats left.

Julian told me about this place Ambition Coffee House which so far, has been a nice breath of sanity at least until Mike Evariste got food poising from the cajun chicken salad sandwich. I would never have guessed passing the xmas lights on the way in, dangling over the low aluminum ceiling noticing the painted murals of Dolly Parton and the Golden Girls and the red patent leather love seats, that that this is where the action would be. Not counting the bad food-I could make better at home-This is where I came for conversation because frankly I was bored . Not food. The story's on the back of the menu but basically when the owner bought the building in 2000 and cleaned out the upstairs they found evidence of a brothel-poker chips, early 1900's corsets and bras. The owner, Marc Renson, talks about it more along with the crazy stories around opening up Ambition in his newly published book 'Is The Coffee Fresh?' http://www.ambitioncafe.com/

He's not saving this town but from everything else around. Its definitely a haven for anyone deprived of a little slice of life now and then. Clearly they weren't getting it elsewhere. On one of the last daysin town,  Lee and Nicole (filling in for Lulu on her sick leave), Larkin, and I all made a trip East to Berkshires, a 45 min drive east. We dropped Lee off at the Red Lion Inn in Stockbridge Mass to meet his aunt for brunch and cocktails. 'have fun hiking the mountain. I'll be getting drunk on my Aunt this afternoon' Lee says in his unapologetic new york Yiddish drawl. We made our way just up the road to Mt Monument for a nice steep but short hike up to the top clump of Rocks to a stunning view, even for the East.

the elevator

Anyone in nyc trying to get away for a weekend (significant other included), check out the Red Lion Inn. http://www.redlioninn.com
This place is crawling with history. Its the oldest continuously operated Bed & Breakfast in the country. Just a classic portrait of old New England and a glimpse into how the old timey NYC folks used to spend their summers when the city was too sweltering hot. It takes you back to a simpler time, like the Rockwell painting. No Iphone's or Internet or Bieber Fever.  Do I sound like my old man yet?... sort of in the vein that Ambition Coffee House was to Schenectady. If we had more time, the Norman Rockwell museum is just up the road but we'll save that for July when we're good and ready to take our well deserved day-of-rest from the Broadway. Ah it's a tough life:)

Larkin Bogan as 'Bambi'