From: hugh's blog

Act like a star

“People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. I don’t believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and if they can’t find them, make them.” George Bernard Shaw

I sat in on the saddest exchange I have ever heard the other day. I hang out, or lurk, in a lot of forums so I can stay on top of what is going on out there on the Interweb. On one of them the question was asked

“If you could do anything in the world for a living, what would you do?”

The range of answers ranged from Astronaut to Teacher, to Scientist, to Professional Dancer. People told tear-jerking stories of their love for music, the way they enjoyed baseball as a child, how happy they were when surrounded by little children. They were spilling their guts, sharing their dreams.

Well, I could not resist asking the obvious question:

“How many of you are doing these things for a living”?

In over 80 responses, not one was doing what they would love to do for a living. Now, don’t get me wrong, everybody had a reason. Age, health, family circumstance, education, children, no credit, to much debt, no money, ad infinitum, ad nauseum.

I don’t understand: If you are not doing what you want to be doing, why aren’t you? When will you? What is going to change that will allow you to think you can do it?

In college, I remember sharing a history class with a lady who was in her late 70’s. She was working on a degree in American History. When the instructor commented on her age, she said her family was scandalized that Grandma was going back to college. She said they told her she would have to take classes for at least 5 years to get her degree, and by then she would be 80 years old.

She told them that in 5 years she would be 80 anyway, the only question was if she would be 80 and have a degree, or be 80 and not.

The next five years are going to pass. Will you just be five years older, or will you be five years older and doing something you love?

This is NOT a rehearsal for your life. This is the Main Event, the big show.

Ask yourself this: Am I acting like the star of my own show, or am I content to be an extra in someone else’s movie?

From: Urf!

Happy Birthday, Click

Tonight was the birthday party for Shannon, who is pushing 40 now. A real, grown-up party with beer and a band and friends and some more beer. Kristy tried to arrange for a sitter – her parents – but, inexplicably, they were going to a concert at The Coliseum. So, not only were our kids still at home, but their cousin was along for the ride. I really wanted to go to the party and Kristy wanted to go to the party, and what did Kristy say? “Go. Have fun.” How about that? Just one reason I love this woman so much. So as a possible topic for the concession speech for the Husband of the Year award, I left her alone with five children. I feel terrible about that. But that party was a lot of fun.

Here is who was at the party: friends and family, pierced people, bald people, Asians, Ultimate Frisbee players, artists, roller derby queens, a newspaper maganate, moms, dads, grandparents, film makers and musicians. Click was there, of course, as was Elizabeth, Toby, Hamlett, Julie, Stacey, Warren, Heather (who has a brand new baby and a brand new URL that I have not been made privy to), Rodney, Christa and Mr. and Mrs. Dwayne (with all these bloggers, it was as though Memphis Blogger had made out the guest list). I had a long talk with Hamlett, wherein we decided that the internet was indeed an amazing thing that seemed to encompass the world. Then he and I talked movies with Dwayne. People danced like The Peanuts outside in 30-degree weather and tonight, for the first time ever, I was recognized as the author of Urf! And it was by one of my favorite commenters, a lovely woman, the mother of Brian, who I even told the real names of The Quartet. I was told by others that they feel like they know my children, though I assured them this is all made up, that I’m really a single 21-year-old living in my mother’s basement in a split-level ranch house just outside Minnetonka, MN. And then I was given some advice on what to write about. We discussed back surgery and I showed my scar, right there in the Dixon kitchen, to Warren.

All in all, it was a great night. I only wish Kristy could have been there. In a strange twist, most of The Quartet was going to spend the night with their grandparents later in the evening, leaving just a manageable GK at home. When everyone asked why I was leaving the party, I explained this to them and they all understood. Maybe I’ll have a party like this for my next birthday. Maybe I can get 1/16 of the people to show up. And maybe, just maybe, one of these fine people will write about how much fun it was on their blog.

From: Sketchwork

San Francisco 8

10/27/06

Sheesh! Did that seem like the longest trip or what?! This is from breakfast on the day we left.

by Elizabeth Alley

From: Wineography

Question One: Booze Edition

While Tennesseans have spent the past several months pondering our own ballot questions, the fine folks of Massachusetts (I'm ashamed that I just had to look up how to spell that) have just finished wrangling over whether or not they want to be able to buy wine in supermarkets.

And the people have spoken and sent a resounding HELL NO to the powers that be.

Alls I can say is Whaaa?

As a resident of a state with wacky liquor-related laws, I am continually fascinated with the idea of purchasing spirits in other locations than seedy liquor stores where they shove everything in a brown bag inside another brown bag, so the God-fearing people on the streets don't have to be confronted with the knowledge that you, at some point in the future, are going to get a little tipsy and commit a social faux pas that will haunt you 'til your lonely, pathetic death.

So when I see a relatively progressive state like Massachusetts pooh-pooh the idea of strolling from the toilet paper to the orange juice to the dry reds, I marvel at the weirdness. Who wouldn't want to be able to buy booze in the damned grocery store?

Other than package-store owners, that is.

Apparently the liquor lobby pulled a Hail Mary to come from behind and defeat the ballot initiative.

Polls taken two weeks before the election showed Question 1 favored by a two-to-one margin among those surveyed. The opponents blitzed TV and radio airwaves with ads portraying the proposal as a public safety issue. They claimed teenagers would be more likely to obtain alcohol because convenience stores also could apply for wine licenses if the question were approved.

Right. Because teens are all about waltzing into a Piggly Wiggly to buy a $16 bottle of wine when they could just go to MapCo and buy $8 worth of beers and get equally as drunk.

Anyway, too bad for Massachusettianistans. I feel their pain. The lack of availability of wine in grocery stores confounds me. Not only does it suck outright having to hoof it to a liquor store — which, thanks to the laws 'round these parts, close at 11 p.m. on every night but Sunday, when they're not open at all — but it also undoubtedly keeps prices from being very competitive across the board. Just imagine the creative discounts the supermarkets and liquor stores could launch to best one another. Just imagine the savings! Just imagine the slurred speech and stumbling and fuzzy holiday memories!

Maybe one day, when Tennessee is done putting Teh Gays in their place, we'll tackle an initiative like this.

posted by theogeo

From: Secret Agent Mom

The Guy Said Honey, You're A Funny Girl

I had been hoping to launch an unofficial NaBloPoMo over here, but I've been too busy working on my bit for the The Funniest Mom in America competition. Yes, the agent is stepping out of the green room and onto the stage, thanks to the supportive goading of Stacey and the somewhat unsupportive smirks from certain friends who think I can only be funny in two dimensions (suck it, Cory!). It seemed like an amazingly well-timed chance to follow up on my life-long dream of pursuing stand-up comedy, so in a swift move that surprised everyone who's ever met me, I read about the Memphis auditions and immediately emailed the local comedy club for a spot. And I got one. And now ... I have to show up. With the funny. I secretly slipped some of my bit onto the playgroup moms this morning, and it went very well, but I know that the Wednesday night crowd at Comedy, TN isn't likely to be a bunch of sleep-deprived mamas. But hopefully, it'll be some of you. Did I mention that it's November 15? At 8:15pm? Bring all your hard-drinking, child-humor-loving friends!

Briefed by S.A.M.

From: Paul Ryburn's Journal

Welcome COGIC

This is the week when the saints of COGIC gather in downtown Memphis for their annual convention. Welcome, and if you have any questions about the area that you'd like to ask a local, feel free to e-mail me.

One of the best ways to celebrate the abundance that God has given you is to share that abundance with others. To that end, I'd like to ask you to please tip your servers well when you go out to eat at downtown restaurants this week. With so many people in town, the servers are going to be extremely busy, and they deserve to be compensated well for their hard work, don't you agree?

A standard tip at a restaurant is 15%. For your convenience, I have computed 15% of common amounts below.

• 15% of $10.00 = $1.50
• 15% of $20.00 = $3.00
• 15% of $30.00 = $4.50
• 15% of $40.00 = $6.00
• 15% of $50.00 = $7.50
• 15% of $60.00 = $9.00
• 15% of $70.00 = $10.50
• 15% of $80.00 = $12.00
• 15% of $90.00 = $13.50
• 15% of $100.00 = $15.00
  

If you make special requests of your server - food prepared a special way, substitutions, etc. - you may want to consider tipping your server a little extra, say, 20%. Again, for your convenience, 20% of common amounts is below.

• 20% of $10.00 = $2.00
• 20% of $20.00 = $4.00
• 20% of $30.00 = $6.00
• 20% of $40.00 = $8.00
• 20% of $50.00 = $10.00
• 20% of $60.00 = $12.00
• 20% of $70.00 = $14.00
• 20% of $80.00 = $16.00
• 20% of $90.00 = $18.00
• 20% of $100.00 = $20.00
  

Also, please keep in mind that if a restaurant does not give a COGIC discount, it's a policy set by management. Your server has no influence over that policy and does not deserve to be penalized on his or her tip. If you only want to eat at restaurants that give COGIC discounts, it would be a good idea to ask about this before you are seated.

I personally can attest that when you freely share your bounty, as God Himself would, with all those around you, it comes back to you tenfold and more. So please keep that in mind when you sit down to eat in downtown Memphis this week.

Again, welcome. Thank you for spending you tourism dollars in Memphis, and if you have questions about Memphis just ask.

11:18 AM

From: Downtown Books

We are growing up.

Our blog is, anyway.

We have decided to get a self-hosted blog, so we can have a bit more control over it. Also, this way we can integrate it into our website (whenever that happens....)

Anyway, please update your feeds and such, because we can now be found at

http://memphisbookshop.com/wordpress/

The new blog will (eventually) have many new features, such as categories, a better comments system, and lots of other things I am not cool enough to yet understand.

I look forward to seeing you over there.

posted by Hugh Hollowell

From: Whining & Dining

Farmer's market lives!

The official Memphis Farmers Market is shuttered for the season, but a few purveyors are gathering on Saturdays outside Cafe Francisco on North Main.

Bought some beautiful salad greens, baby spinach and pea vines from my favorite Mississippi gentleman farmer/NWA airline pilot... chefs, take note: this is amazing stuff!

And the meat man was there... last Saturday, I ran into the Squirrels (their blog comment handle), who inspired me with their mission of roasting soup bones they bought from the meat man. Sadly, he didn't have any this trip, but we chewed the fat.

I asked about how he raised his cattle, and he said they grazed on grass to 700 pounds, then finished off with corn. I said something about cows were not really meant to eat corn, and he said: "You read 'Omnivore's Dilemma' didn't you?" Guilty!

What he said made some sense, and I appreciate his good practices, especially dry-aging the beef... something very few processors do.

That reminded me of a conversation I had earlier in the week with food editor Jennifer Biggs about the distinction between food that's grown or raised under strict organic rules, and crops/animals done old-school... something people refer to as authentic. It's a complex world out there, with corporations in the organic biz... I still cannot bring myself to buy packaged spinach... well, except from the man from Holly Springs. Go see him next Saturday!

What about you? Are you steering away from certain foods because of the way they're raised/grown? Or, is it a matter of price?

Posted by Leslie Kelly

From: Fertile Ground

Love at First Sight

Several months ago, I fell in love.

With Pocky.



And now it is all mine.

See it for yourself (as well as 14 other amazing paintings by Elizabeth Alley) at Perry Nicole Fine Art (a.k.a. the original home of Mothersville)during the month of November.

posted by Stacey Greenberg

From: a pulp faction

A self-indulgent post riddled with parentheses.

Time for a break from magazine production, or I will surely suffer a bad case of burn out and it will never get done.

I've surprised myself with this all, lately. See, somewhere in the back of my mind I'm aware of the fact that I am capable of amazing feats of discipline and self-control and do in fact posses a selectively stellar work ethic. I frequently forget this, however, thanks to my tendencies towards drinking and sleeping a lot and watching too much TV and otherwise taking a rather lackadaisical approach to life. This project is bringing all the good stuff out, with the help of a little more coffee than I usually consume. (Ok, actually my drink of choice is a Cafe Con Pana, a double espresso topped with whip cream. Dreamy.)

The point is that I feel really accomplished, it feels good to be working on something I believe in, something that challenges me without it being some impossible thing which will surely break me.

I'm about to be sappy, if you're not in the mood for it don't read it. I'm about to tell you how I wake up every day and find myself thinking it's an effing beautiful day. (WTF is up with that. This isn't exactly Mr. Roger's neighborhood.) Even that one day after Halloween when it was all foggy and misty. I find myself appreciating the trees and how many of them there actually are around here compared to a lot of places and how pretty their leaves are this time of year. I find myself working harder for my boss (Yes, I still suffer from the affliction of a day job,) and taking deep breaths when I go outside and cussing a lot less when I drive. (It's still a lot though, you should call me sometime when I'm driving home from work. It's hilarious.)

Though I haven't done laundry in over a month (it's ok, I own lots of clothes for this exact reason,) and I really don't shower as often as I probably should and some might say I'm cultivating a hair style rather reminiscent of Einstein in his later years, things are actually going quite well and frankly, this has been an entirely self-indulgent post serving only to convince me of that fact.

posted by pulpfaction

From: Paul Ryburn's Journal

First impression: EP's Delta Kitchen and Bar on Beale Street: AWESOME

Tonight, after a couple of beers at the Tap Room, I stumbled into EP's Delta Kitchen and Bar, located in the old Elvis Presley's Memphis building at Second and Beale. Now, I had to get by there at some point this week and then write about it in my blog, because my friend and former neighbor Mike (who used to be the chef at McEwen's) is at EP's now and designed the menu. "All right," I thought. "If this place sucks as much as Elvis Presley's Memphis did, I'll bury it in a ____day Update post and give it two sentences in the middle of nine other bullet points."

EP's gets its own post.

EP's gets its own post and my recommendation to GO THERE AND EAT. AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.

Let's start out with the decor: It's superb. Think Swig, Dish, Bluefin, but with the soul of Beale Street. The furniture, the lighting, the music, make it feel hip, yet you never forget where you are.

I asked the staff for a few recommendations. One that was pointed out repeatedly was the pork loin stuffed with house-made sausage. Comes with sweet cornbread pudding and creole mustard demiglace.

Another popular recommendation was the stuffed portabella mushrooms with shrimp, spinach, and caramelized onions. Another was the fried green tomatoes with tomatilla sauce and pear compote - "we're taking fried green tomatoes to a whole new level." Also highly recommended was the smoked duck seafood gumbo. But really, just ask to look at the menu. You can't go wrong. They told me they want to be on a level with Stella, McEwen's, Felicia Suzanne's, etc. within a year, and based on the menu they're already there on their second day.

By the time I got there, they had rolled off the regular menu and onto their late night menu. From that, I had the Lobster Pronto Pup - a corn dog, but with lobster rather than a hot dog inside, over a bed of greens - SO good. Also recommended on the late night menu is the nachos with sweet potato chips, pepper jack and crawfish.

To drink, I had a peanut butter and banana cocktail, with Godiva liqueur, 99 Bananas, vodka and amaretto. It comes garnished with a banana chip. Yummy.

As Mike the chef explained it to me, EP's knows they'll draw tourists solely based on location but "we want to cater to locals. We want a place where they can relax and feel at home. We don't expect to see the same people every night of the week, but we want it to be the place they go when their mother comes to town to visit. (Attn Mama: when you come to town, we need to eat here) We want it to be the place you bring Uncle Todd for his 56th birthday."

For those Downtowners who go to a bar for the people as much as for the food and drinks, Ugly Steve (formerly of the Tap Room/King's Palace) is bartending downstairs, and Hooper (formerly of Dan McGuinness Pub, and before that, Downtown Huey's) is upstairs.

I asked how late they planned on staying open tonight - some places that are more restaurant than bar close early. "Oh, we'll be here until about 2:45," I was told.

This place SO makes me wish I had a girl I was seriously interested in so I could take her to dinner there. If this place doesn't impress, I don't know what will.

Attn Rapscallions: Dinner at EP's after trivia Tuesday night?

2:15 AM

From: Letters to Larry

Positive

Larry,

Guess what? I'm positively positive that the test Anna just took was positive. I know that it's customary to wait some time before telling people but I wanted you to know. You are the 7th person to know officially. I hope that we aren't tempting fate by spilling the beans early. Here's my chance to prove my theory about Karma. Basically, I think that I've done so much bad in my life, nothing good will ever happen to me ever again. We'll see. I'll keep you posted. And I didn't forget about you either. I'll be sending you some stuff about Costa Rica soon. Oh, and we've got the wedding pictures as well. You can take a gander at those here. I hope that you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed being in them. Sarcasm, meet Larry. Larry, sarcasm.

Paul

Posted by Paul

From: The Daily Diversion

ODDITIES AND ABNORMALITIES...

Okay, so it's been a little while since I last posted. I know that. However, I'm going to try to keep this short and too the point (which never happens).

We had something very strange happen today. It was actually snowing when I went to lunch today. Yes, at 12:35 pm, in Memphis, on November 1st, 2006, we had snow flurries. It wasn't really coming down hard or anything. I know! Some people would say, "John, you're an idiot! That was just rain. It was drizzling!"

Well folks, I know the difference between rain and snow, and this, my friends, was snow. It didn't last long and it never showed up on the ground, but it was hitting me in the face on my walk home. My co-worker will back me up on this.

Another thing of note...

I started writing again today. It's not anything that I plan on posting, because I'm hoping I can put it all together and have something really special. It all relates to a dream I had this morning. I woke out of it, but couldn't find my pen and paper. So, I made a voice record on my phone, but didn't need it. I remembered everything about the dream when I actually got up, and had some more stuff to add to it by the time I got to work. I need to do some research on quite a bit of stuff to really bring it all together, but I'm hoping for something great. Wish me luck!

Okay, I'm out! Hopefully not for as long as last time!

Inflicted on you by John

From: a pulp faction

Don't forget the Rock N' Romp

Ok, so if you don't have little ones or you were able to book a sitter for Friday night, chances are you are not going to be in the mood for live music and daylight by mid aftrnoon on Saturday, but I wanted to post this anyway. Just in case you are. Memphis Rock 'N' Romp

posted by pulpfaction

From: The Flypaper Theory

How Many Ways To Lose an Election?

How Many Ways to Lose an Election? Harold Ford, Jr., is counting them as I write this.

Make no mistake; I'm not busting out the champagne glasses if Harold loses, and I never would. Yes, I've been just as critical of his voting record and his representation of Memphians, and his pull so far to the right, he is the African-American version of Trent Lott.

Yet, I'd steeled myself to actually start thinking of him as "Senator Ford". And it could still happen.

But when you are in an election that had become yours to win, despite all the truth-telling we do here at TFT, why do you then treat us to a YouTube clip that all but shows you shooting your campaign in the foot and picking off its' toes one-by-one?

Most blogs are pretty quiet on Ford's meltdown with Bob Corker at the Wilson Air Terminal last week. Some are saying he's still going to win, and at this point, anything's possible, given that it is Tennessee we're talking about. However, I wouldn't want Kos' record on political campaigns, either (Kos is like, um, 2 for 20 and counting...)in calling this election for Harold, just yet.

So, How many Ways can Harold lose this Election? Let us count them:

(1) Being caught at the Playboy Mansion, then taping a campaign ad showing you in church as a God-Fearing Christian. While I like to go to a good party like anyone else (and don't think a Christian can't get their "party" on; if they tell you that, they're a lyin' Christian), if I'm seen at the Playboy Mansion, as the Christian Progressive Liberal, I don't think my excuse of "witnessing to the lost" is going to play well.

(2) Having your former lover posting pictures of your vacation with her on the Internet. Ah, those "Family Values" again. I'm no prude, but if you're promoting yourself to those in East Tennessee as a "Family Values" man, going off on weekends with a woman you're not married to, doesn't cut it. If there's some "Family Values" that allow for fornication, could you forward them to me, please? While I know plenty of ministers who do the same thing, I call them out on that, too. And while what you do in your personal life shouldn't matter a damn to anyone except you and another consenting adult, it does if you're promoting yourself as a "Family Values" man. Look what it did for Mark Foley and Don Sherwood...

(3) Trying to distance yourself from your family while getting tied up with them 50 ways from Sunday. Either endorse your brother and really kill your chances at that Senate seat, or do the right thing and shore up your base by endorsing who rightfully won the Democratic nomination for the 9th District Congressional Seat.

(4) Gatecrashing your opponent's press conference and then going on television lying about how Bob Corker won't engage you in debates. I saw them on C-Span...and if you weren't making this Senate race about your family, showing up with the same thug-like tactics as the rest of your family doesn't do jack to show Tennessee and the Nation how you're not like the rest of your family. Jeez, Harold, gatecrashing Corker's press Conference? My God, what the Hell were you thinking when you did that?!!!

I'm going on the record again - I wanted you to win or lose this election based on the merits, your voting record and the issues. But you have made this election about your family and their peccadilloes, as well as your own.

And to think, I'd actually gotten used to the idea of calling you "Senator Ford" even if your response would be to cuss me out to my face. I can still get used to the idea, but your idiocy is taking that to a whole 'nother level that I can't begin to fathom...

posted by The Christian Progressive Liberal

From: Life In & Around Memphis

Changes in Lattitudes...

Well actually, it's more of a change in longitude. But I digress...

There are distinct differences between Germantown and Memphis that I'm beginning to notice. I think I'm going to try and supply pics of these differences over time, but for now, just take my word.

One example I'll give you now: a huge difference between Memphis and Germantown is what kind of cars come with "rims." I know what you're thinking: "Philip, cars don't come with rims. Rims are put on by the owners after they buy the car. They are aftermarket accessories." You are right. But when you see a car driving down the street with rims, as far as you know, the car came with those rims. But for the sake of this post we'll just discuss the various "cars with rims" around the area.

The quality of cars with rims vary from area of town to another. When I lived in Midtown and East Memphis, I saw tons of cars with rims (especially at Buffalo Wild Wings), but they were all crappy cars with expensive looking rims (like a '95 Chrysler towncar with rusted paint and a two color hood or an old '97 Chevy Blazer). It had spinners and tinted windows but was one rain storm away from losing the muffler. Now that I live in Germantown (temporarily), I notice that cars with rims are actually nice cars (like a Mercedes Benz SL500 with tinted windows and spinners or a Lincoln towncar with tinted windows).

One thing I have noticed is that regardless of what area of town, if you're going to put rims and/or spinners on a ride (is there a difference?), they have to be nice no matter how much of a piece o' shite your car is. So the lesson is that...

RIMS ARE NOT A STATUS SYMBOL PEOPLE! YOUR STATUS IS BASED ON WHAT STYLE AND QUALITY OF VEHICLE YOU ADD THE RIMS!!!

Over the next week or so, I'll try and get pics of the various types of cars with rims around town. That is, if I remember to bring my damn camera with me.

Have a good one and don't get none on ya

posted by Philip

From: Fertile Ground

Me Talk Scary Someday

On Monday, Mary, one of my derby teammates sent me an email informing me that she wouldn't be at practice because she had just been given two free tickets to see David Sedaris at the Cannon Center. I immediately responded, "Who gets the second ticket?"

She said she had already asked her boyfriend to go, but she could try and get another ticket.

"Get two," I typed.

A few minutes later she called to say that she had indeed gotten two more tickets. I immediately emailed our coach and told her I wouldn't be at practice either and got on the horn to see if I could possibly get Warren home from Missouri.

My coach told Mary and I that we could only have an excused absence from practice if we returned from the show with a piece of David Sedaris, even if it was just a toenail. Warren said there was no way he could make it back to be my date.

Mary and I made a verbal pinky swear to retrieve a toenail and I set about getting a backup date. I emailed my comrades in arms, RJA, Kristy, and Andria to see who wanted to escort me. RJA was the first to reply, then Kristy, then Andria.

I've never felt so popular.

In the end, neither RJA or Kristy could justify feeding their four kids benadryl for dinner and abandoning them with the other parent on a school night, so Andria got to be my date.

As we entered the Cannon Center and got lost in a sea of whitebread intellectual types like ourselves, I turned to Mary and said, "Give me my ticket in case we get separated."

"No," she said with a laugh.

"Okay..." I said, "Then I guess you better come pee with me."

Once we had all freshened up and set off to find our seats, it soon became clear why Mary was being so tight lipped about the tickets.

WE HAD FRONT ROW CENTER SEATS!

That's right folks. David Sedaris and his podium were about 20 feet from me.

The show was completely brilliant as expected. I both felt totally dwarfed by his writing and lifted by his success. I mean here was a dude just reading his essays to a room full of people who forked over $35-$100 per seat. Pretty damn amazing.

When the show was over and Sedaris left the stage, I turned to Mary and said, "Look he left his water glass on stage! Let's get it for the coach."

She looked on in horror as I quickly mounted the stage, grabbed his glass and water bottle, and then nailed my landing back on the orchestra floor.

"Oh my god!" my companions yelled between their hysterical laughter.

In the foyer I scoped out the book signing line to see if I could stand to wait in it for a chance to actually speak to Mr. Sedaris. It was about a hundrd miles long and my babysitter was going to turn into a pumpkin soon. "Oh well," I said.

Mary ran off to the facilities as Andria, Michael, and I chatted. As she made her way back, I noticed Justin Willingham (a local NPR announcer) escorting a very small man through the lobby. Without thinking twice, I walked over to join them.

"Hi Mr. Sedaris," I said. "I just jumped on stage and grabbed your drinking glass because my roller derby coach said the only way I could miss practice was if I brought her something with your bodily fluids on it. Or a toenail."

He looked at me stunned and said, "Oh you don't want my toenail."

"Can you sign the glass?" I asked hopefully.

"I can at the table," he said nervously.

I followed him and Justin Willingham past the hundreds of people lined up and watched as he delicately signed the glass and silently prayed for his life.

"Thank you very much," I said in my most un-psychotic voice.

I swear, sometimes I even amaze myself. Here's to you, Randi!

posted by Stacey Greenberg

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From: Bar-B-Log

The CA Sucks Up

I want to rant about Leslie Kelley's review of Corky's in yesterday's Playbook. I actually wrote a very long rant about it, but instead of posting those thousand-plus words, I reduced my vitriol to a few rhetorical questions. Why was this review written? Why was it written so poorly? Why was it then published? Does any reader of The Commercial Appeal want or need a review of Corky's?
Is anyone going there to get a hamburger? How in the good Lord's name could she give them three stars?

On the bright side, I found the reader comments heartening – especially the following: "You're not from here, are you, darlin'?"

Basted by The Saucier

From: Downtown Books

I want to be a REAL bookstore when I grow up

I sell books for a living. I like selling books, and I am damn good at it. I sell books better than 70 hours most weeks, and have spent years learning my trade. I do not tell you any of this to impress you, but rather to make the point that this is what I DO. This is not a hobby, or what I am doing until my Amway business takes off and I become a super duper diamond and own an island. So, you will understand if I took offense when I read this over at Paul Ryburns blog.

Let me preface this by saying that I don't think Paul is a bad person; I just think he is wrong.

He maintains (insists, really) that while it is great that we are here, what Downtown needs is a real bookstore. You know, one with ferns and carpet and that stays open till ten, so he does not have to go hang out at bars. Now, one might question why one must go hang out at bars, if what you really want to do is go to a bookstore, as there is a Bookstar 15 minutes up the road that stays open till 10 (and they do not even have a cover charge), but that is a whole 'nother post; heck, that would be a whole 'nother blog.

He gives 3 reasons [sic] why Downtown needs a Chain Bookstore. To quote Samuel Johnson (who, among other things, was a bookseller and a son of a bookseller) "I refute you, thus!"

1) We need a bookstore that stays open until at least 10 at night.
"...I would love to have a bookstore where I can go and read and hang out after work."

That is not what you do in a bookstore. That is what you do in a library, or the park, or hell, I guess the alleyway behind your house. You buy books in a bookstore. If you do this, the proprietor will no doubt want to chat with you, discuss things you like to read, or make other recommendations. Some people call this a good time. Buying books means you give them money, with which they pay the rent, lights, taxes, employees, buy books, and, if fortune shines on them (or the phone bill is late in arriving that month), they buy food for their children and try to pay their mortgage. Your "hanging out" does not pay for any of that.

Incidentally, again note that I studied this just a little bit before risking time, money, and my families security in downtown. If there were enough folks who would come in at 10pm, I would be here with bells on. The market (defined as people who will pay money for books) just ain't there. As it is, anything after 3pm is a gift.


2) There's a certain legitimacy that comes with a big chain's name value.

If you go to bed with a whore, you wake up with a whore. IF B&N or Borders came down here, less than half of the money you put in their register will stay in the local economy. Over 80% of our revenue stays local. They will come in, slash prices, force the books down your throat that the publisher pays them advertising dollars to, and when things look bleak, they will leave. You will get folks who work there who are just a shade too smart to work at McDonald's. Oh, they are legitimate. They are as legitimate as all hell.

3. Larger selection

This is largely a myth. Folks say they want a larger selection, but they do not. They want the appearance of a larger selection. We have well over 10,000 titles on the shelves, and add more everyday. Titles, not books. They may have 50,000 books, but only 6,000 titles. After all, there are 50 copies of the Da Vinci code in that pile, and 15 copies of the latest Nora Roberts books in a display over there. The industry knows this, by the way. The chains know that a HUGE percentage of their sales will come from less than 500 titles in any given year. They have a cute name for the rest of the stock: wallpaper.

If you want the latest Oprah book club book, go to B&N. However, we have a highly regarded selection of Religion, Philosophy, Science Fiction, American history and Cookbooks that I would go up against any chain on.

A few other things from his post that I take issue with:

And I'm not claiming that that experience is better than the one you would have at a mom-and-pop store, ...

I just LOVE being called a Mom and Pop. Love it. Why don't you just tell me how cute my little bookshop is, and ask me what I want to be when I grow up.

True, a small store could order any book a customer requests, but when I want a book, I want it now, not a week from now. If I were willing to wait a week, I'd just get on Amazon.com and order it myself.

Maybe that is the best choice for you. Then you can hang out in your own house, listen to your ipod and talk loud on your cellphone. Of course, when you do that, please do not piss and moan when the small bookshops go under and talk about how evil the chains are, and how "Downtown NEEDS a bookstore". It costs money to be here, folks.

Downtown Books closes at 5, according to their website. That means the only day I can hang out there is Saturday.

Not that we have seen you on any of the 6 Saturdays we have been open so far, but we have high hopes. Please leave the Yatzee board at home.

posted by Hugh Hollowell

From: Paul Ryburn's Journal

Why we need a big chain bookstore downtown

This morning I got an e-mail from Memphis Tobacco Bowl/Downtown Books. They were responding to my recent suggestion that the soon-to-be-vacant Tower Records space in Peabody Place Mall would be a good spot for a Borders or other large chain bookstore:

"You could walk over to 152 Madison, in the heart of Downtown, where there's a bookstore and a coffee shop."

I wasn't meaning to knock Downtown Books in any way when I made that suggestion. The Tobacco Bowl is a great place, and I've had many days off work that I've walked over to Tobacco Bowl and sat at Tracy's coffee bar and had a great time. The Tobacco Bowl is a real asset to downtown - I don't smoke but I know they carry a large assortment of quality cigars, sold by someone who is knowledgeable enough to direct you toward something you'll like. They have really gone far to make their customers feel at home, adding the coffee bar, free wireless Internet and comfortable seating. And now they have added Downtown Books, yet one more reason to go into 152 Madison (between Second and Third, if you're not familiar with the area). If you like cigars, or coffee, or books, or friendly people, I highly recommend you stop by.

However, I still contend that downtown needs a big chain bookstore. Here's why:

1) We need a bookstore that stays open until at least 10 at night. And 11 or midnight would be even better. I get home from work about 5 in the afternoon. Downtown Books closes at 5, according to their website. That means the only day I can hang out there is Saturday. I would love to have a bookstore where I can go and read and hang out after work. Heck, it'd be a nice alternative to going out to bars every night. But at this point in Downtown's development, it would be a huge financial risk for a small business to extend its hours until 10 or 11. The big chains can afford that risk.

2) There's a certain legitimacy that comes with a big chain's name value. People are more likely to say, "Oh, if I lived Downtown I'd be able to walk to Borders; maybe it's time to move down there." They're already familiar with the shopping experience at Borders, having been to the one out east. And I'm not claiming that that experience is better than the one you would have at a mom-and-pop store, but it's perception. People tend to gravitate toward what's familiar, and a lot more people are familiar with the big chains.

3) Larger selection. Big chain stores have more space, which means they can keep more in stock. True, a small store could order any book a customer requests, but when I want a book, I want it now, not a week from now. If I were willing to wait a week, I'd just get on Amazon.com and order it myself.

For these reasons, I believe a big chain bookstore would increase foot traffic on Downtown streets, which in turn would benefit other Downtown businesses. I even think Downtown Books/Tobacco Bowl would benefit in the long run; once down here, some people would discover that there's another place a few blocks away that doesn't charge for wireless Internet and has better coffee, more comfortable seating, fine cigars, and good conversation. So, I really think having a Borders or Bookstar or B&N Downtown would be a win for everybody.

Now we just gotta convince one of the big chains that it would be a win for them...

From: Paul Ryburn's Journal

"Tendentious": Why I can't stand Koeppel's restaurant reviews

Yesterday I was browsing the Commercial Appeal's website, and noticed that Fredric Koeppel had written about Stella in his weekly dining review. So I clicked the link to see what he had to say.

The first sentence started off: "At the risk of sounding tendentious..."

Okay. In high school I scored 1430 on the SAT. I went on to a liberal arts college where I had to spend a lot of my time reading books with big words. Since then I've spent a fair amount of time reading for personal pleasure. And yet I have no idea what "tendentious" means. I don't think I've even seen the word before. I wonder if even 1% of Koeppel's readers actually knew the meaning of that word.

tendentious also tendencious adj (1900): marked by a tendency in favor to a particular point of view: BIASED - tendentiously adv - tendentiousness n

Now, that definition may possibly be outdated, as I pulled it from the dictionary I got in 1987 while still in high school. But I think we'll be okay, because Koeppel is probably the first person to actually use that word in a sentence since 1987.

When I read the first line of his Stella review, this is the thought that came to my mind:

"Well, I don't know if he sounds tendentious, but he certainly sounds pretentious."

I didn't bother to read the rest of the review. Instead, I pulled up Stacey Greenberg's excellent Dining with Monkeys blog to read some restaurant reviews that are a lot more fun, accessible, and interesting.

Looking at the reader comments section of Koeppel's Stella review, it's clear that I'm not the only one who feels this way about his writing style. I remember reading last year that the Commercial Appeal is interested in doing more to appeal to the common Memphian. Sorry guys, but this is one area in which you ain't getting it done.

From: Memphis Blues Society

MBS Meeting at Kudzu's OCT 3

The Memphis Blues Society will have a meeting open to all at Kudzu's on Tuesday, OCT. 3 at 7 pm. If you don't know Kudzu's is located at - Kudzu’s Bar & Deli
603 Monroe Ave
(901) 525-4924

posted by Joe Terry

From: Whining & Dining

What did George W. Bush fans eat for lunch today?

The President was in Memphis for a fundraiser at a private home today, with the Peabody Hotel catering the meal... at $2,000 a plate.

Here's the menu:

Hors d'oeuvres
Curried Chicken Salad in a Mini Cheese Basket
Mini Smoked Salmon Lollipops
Crabmeat Cigars with Sweet Thai Chili Sauce
Black Mission Fig with Prosciutto and Gorgonzola
Vegetable Tartelette with Goat Cheese

Drinks
Sweetened and Unsweetened Fruit-Flavored Iced Tea with Lemon and Lime Wheels
Voss Mineral Water
Lemonade with Fresh Lemons to Garnish

First Course
Goat Cheese Walnut Mousse and Smoked Trout Rillettes with Assorted Olive Relish, Rosemary Crostini and Pickled Beets

Main Course
Sherry Poached Breast of Chicken with Spiced Estragon Consomme, Pearl Pasta and Vegetables, Oven-Roasted Tomato Tzatziki

Dessert
Flourless Chocolate Cake and Pineapple Almond Tart with Fresh Berries, Raspberry Coulis and Chocolate Straw

Yes, I had to look up estragon... a fancy moniker for tarragon!
Here's the team that put that meal together: Executive Chef Andreas Kisler created the menu.

Executive Sous Chef Andrew Black and Banquet Chef Brian Williams helped to prepare it.

Executive Pastry Chef Konrad Spitzbart did dessert.

UPDATE: A person who attended the lunch commented on the blog that president did not actually eat... too bad, sounds like he missed a delicious meal.

Posted by Leslie Kelly

From: Whining & Dining

What did George W. Bush fans eat for lunch today?

The President was in Memphis for a fundraiser at a private home today, with the Peabody Hotel catering the meal... at $2,000 a plate.

Here's the menu:

Hors d'oeuvres
Curried Chicken Salad in a Mini Cheese Basket
Mini Smoked Salmon Lollipops
Crabmeat Cigars with Sweet Thai Chili Sauce
Black Mission Fig with Prosciutto and Gorgonzola
Vegetable Tartelette with Goat Cheese

Drinks
Sweetened and Unsweetened Fruit-Flavored Iced Tea with Lemon and Lime Wheels
Voss Mineral Water
Lemonade with Fresh Lemons to Garnish

First Course
Goat Cheese Walnut Mousse and Smoked Trout Rillettes with Assorted Olive Relish, Rosemary Crostini and Pickled Beets

Main Course
Sherry Poached Breast of Chicken with Spiced Estragon Consomme, Pearl Pasta and Vegetables, Oven-Roasted Tomato Tzatziki

Dessert
Flourless Chocolate Cake and Pineapple Almond Tart with Fresh Berries, Raspberry Coulis and Chocolate Straw

Yes, I had to look up estragon... a fancy moniker for tarragon!
Here's the team that put that meal together: Executive Chef Andreas Kisler created the menu.

Executive Sous Chef Andrew Black and Banquet Chef Brian Williams helped to prepare it.

Executive Pastry Chef Konrad Spitzbart did dessert.

UPDATE: A person who attended the lunch commented on the blog that president did not actually eat... too bad, sounds like he missed a delicious meal.

Posted by Leslie Kelly

From: Secret Agent Mom

Dichotomy (part 1)

It was 5:17 pm when I got a call from W*, my poker buddy, former ad salesman and local music magnate. He was on his way to a meeting with JR, and asked if I wanted to come along. W's sneaky like that.

He'd emailed me a few days prior, extolling the virtues of young master JR and casually mentioning that the poor boy was having a bit of trouble getting shows together. I tried to ignore the bait, as I generally do when I hear that valid but common complaint, and I busied myself by going over the 419 things I needed to get done for my current clients. But then, as I was innocently checking my MySpace messages, I ran smack into an email from JR's friend/manager-type-guy, chock full of links to JR's debut album. Curiosity got the better of me, and I clicked. I listened. I promptly sent an expletive-laden email back to W., cursing him out for having the gall to drop a really, really talented songwriter on me. Now what was I supposed to do, say no thanks and watch him wander off to another agent who would recognize his talent and set up a 50-city tour but pay no attention to whether or not he owned a decent parka?

So when W called, I was torn. Not only was I unsure if I could commit to another artist, but I also had to get to my daughter's PTA meeting half an hour later. The wardrobe decision alone was nearly enough to keep me at home - how could I possibly find something to wear that would suit both scenarios? Was there anything in my closet that simultaneously said "culturally aware" (read: young) and "maternally responsible" (read: able to locate Band-Aids in less than 3 seconds)? But I threw caution - and my mom shorts - to the wind and agreed to meet W and JR for coffee.

From the minute I saw his bedheaded silhouette, I knew I was done for. Maybe if all songslingers didn't look like 8-year-old boys, I'd have an easier time telling them that no, they'll just have to take care of their careers themselves. The meeting itself was as fruitful as possible, considering the normal level of awkwardness between two people who've never met yet have had other people trying to hook them up for the last week. Considering JR and I are both married, that's not a situation we're accustomed to these days. W earned his nickname of The Great Facilitator (okay, I don't know if anyone calls him that, but they should) and somehow managed to plan out the next six months of our lives, all in the course of one bottle of green tea. Of course, maybe he didn't realize he was planning out that far, but that's how long it takes to set up a decent tour. Just as I was about to issue my slow sigh of contented resignation, I realized it was time to pack up my briefcase/diaper bag and head off to the PTA meeting.

Life lesson of the day: the PTA doesn't recognize "club time"; they actually start meetings when they say they will. It's hard to be a very secretive agent when you're creeping in the squeaky front door right in the middle of the cookie dough fundraiser briefing.

* Look, I'm still deciding how anonymous to be, or at least how much privacy to give other people. Give me a week and I'll probably be giving names, cell phone numbers and SAT scores.

Briefed by S.A.M.

From: Wineography

It's hard to document your drinkin' when you're doin' none
So I've been on a sober bender, if you can believe it, since, really, the last time I posted here. Because that night I polished off my last bottle and I've been too broke to splurge and buy any since. (It can be a terribly expensive habit, even if you limit yourself to $10 bottles.)

But rather than let this blog languish because of my own boring sobriety, I'm going to post about something or another, a real point be damned!

Oooh, this is good. It's a primer on Long Island wines*.

I've only ever had a sip of one particular Long Island wine, and it was extra special because I was actually on Long Island and drinking from a bottle procured by Amber's roommate, who works for the vineyard where the bottle was made.

I'll need to keep my eyes open for Long Island wines that can be bought locally.

*I am swooning over this website. So pretty and sophisticated it hurts!

posted by theogeo

From: Sketchwork

Late-Night Sketching

From: Urf!

Just Ducky

Kristy called me as I was on the way home from work to say that Andria had called her to say she and Miss M were at the duck pond and would we like to join them? We would indeed. I met Kristy, The Quartet and our friends, and found the kids running around, glad to be free of school, schedules and teachers. It was Friday, and as JP is fond of saying on Fridays, “It’s Friday, we can stay up late.” Amen to that.

The duck pond, in Chickasaw Gardens, is our little oasis in the middle of the city, it’s our miniature Central Park, it’s a place we feel comfortable letting the kids run somewhat wild and unrestrained. Tonight, with the temperature in the low 70s, was a great night for releasing pent up energy and blowing off some steam. As the adults sat and talked about our day, C and JP explored the far east side of the pond, climbing Magnolias and meeting another boy roughly C’s age. S and Miss M, tired of throwing rocks toward ducks, tormented a dachsund that had shown up with another family. The boy C and JP had befriended had a net for catching turtles and the boys were taken with it and the idea of pulling something alive from the water. They followed this boy and his net as they traveled around the perimeter of the pond. And we let them go. The boy with the net was with his father, we assumed, who seemed like a normal enough person, although he was wearing white pants. I don’t trust men who wear white pants. But they explored the pond, staying close to the waterline, until they were finally out of sight, obscured by the oaks and pine. We adults joked about letting our kids tag along with strange men in white pants who was either the father of another boy or a man who was simply collecting children in the park. So Kristy, ever the paranoiac, and GK, who had no choice, went in pursuit of C, JP, the man in white pants and the boy with the net. And she found them on the opposite side of the lake harassing turtles and the occasional duck. Good news, the man was sane and safe.

The evening ended back at our house for burritos, birthday cake, catfights, negotiations, water and, ultimately, forced separation. Perhaps more on that tomorrow…

Birthed by RJA

From: Paul Ryburn's Journal

Sunday update: An artsy link, football, AMOGs, and more

Here's a link to a Commercial Appeal article that is a must-bookmark: The 2006-2007 performing arts calendar, by writer Christopher Blank. It's a comprehensive calendar listing the schedule of just about every performing arts group in the city. It also contains a good article about the new Hattiloo Theater on Marshall.

Ravi Shankar is performing on October 5 at the Germantown Performing Arts Center. He's the guy who taught George Harrison from the Beatles how to play the sitar. I bet he'd be worth seeing. God, he's gotta be pushing 100 now.

Sitting here in the Union Avenue branch office. Just posted Deal of the Week, with good deals on an MP3 player, a laptop, and accounting software. Been a good morning so far... walked out my apartment building's door and the first person I saw was a Romanian, on her way to buy cigarettes at Walgreens before heading to work. Hmmm. Maybe she's stalking me.

Apparently because I hang out in bars a lot, everyone thinks I should have an opinion on tonight's Eli Manning vs. Peyton Manning matchup. I don't. Well, unless "don't care" counts as an opinion. Oh, fine. I'll have an opinion. I'll pull for Eli because when I hung out at the downtown Blue Monkey for Sunday brunch, my bartender was named Eli. She was a girl though. Game starts at 7:15, which means I'll probably be sitting in Sleep Out's watching it. Could go to the Saucer to watch it but the place will be full of AMOGs (Alpha Male Other Guys; it's a term used on how-to-pick-up-women websites) who take NFL football way too seriously. Actually, it's kind of fun to watch them watch the game, kind of like it's fun to go to the zoo and watch the animals. Maybe I will go to the Saucer after all.

Ole Miss lost yesterday. Good. Maybe they should change their cheer to "Hotty Toddy, We Suck!"

Plans for this week: Rooftop party on the roof of my apartment building Thursday night. Cooper-Young Fest on Saturday. Otherwise, the usual stuff - Pint Nite tomorrow, team trivia on Tuesday, Court Square concert series on Wednesday. Friday I will probably take the night off and get some rest. I don't mess around when it comes to Cooper-Young - I absolutely will not allow myself to wake up with 3 hours sleep and a hangover that morning, like I do most Saturdays.

Time to log off and play the NTN trivia game. See you later!

11:27 AM

From: Click(Daily)

Nothing finer

From: artbutcher

Oh Sweet Jesus

oh sweet jesus
i know
i know
i know
i said
i would never write another mass email
but i have promised a lot of people
a lot of different things
and didnt come through
that were more important than an email
but lets get down to business
as i wait for the gesso to dry
on what i hope like hell
is not the 11th, 12th, 13th, and 14th canvas
to be thrown against the wall
i have a little time to tell you a story
a short story
more of a to do list really
as i scratch off entries
on my own
things to do before the wedding list
we have booked the band
an irish bluegrass band
oh sweet jesus
tell me that aint going to be a good time
you have never seen me
dance my
lord of the dance
that i dance so well
good times
good times
another good time was the roller derby prom
and the sexual sensory overload that it was
talk about subject matter for paintings
only to be thrown against the wall
what a waste
just like money for a tent at our wedding
nothing but clear skies ahead
atleast i hope that is the case
five months from now
when i sign my life away
they say half of all marriages end in divorce
i know four couples
that have yet to get a divorce
i dont like the odds
oh well
it is better than sitting at home on friday night
you get to see
what no one else has seen
larry edwards paintings at marshall arts
imagine being in a room with him
talking about art
his crazy pelican eating roses art
good times
good times
but do not linger
as there is an opening at material on broad
with a soon to be
new yorker
wearing the finest fashions
that will get to memphis
just in time
to get them at the vintage shops
in nyc
carolyn bomar
i bet she wants to see me
do the lord of the dance
dance
good times
good times
but do not linger
as there is an opening at david lusk as well
with maysey craddock
the only person i know
that is making powerful work
about hurricane katrina
and she lives in germany
what does that say about us
oh yeah
we dont care about poor people
anyways
good times
good times
but do not linger
erin king is showing at
the world famous p and h cafe
it is world famous
i talked to a guy from england
who loves this place
he loves the table tops
thank you
thank you
and he will love erin
who said she is dressing up as wonder woman
now
that you just have to see
but do not linger
bobby spillman
is having his first show
since getting his mfa
he has come out of his hermits shell
got a hair cut
pulled out the three year old diamond crowns
and is showing a lross gallery
i wonder how those white walls
are holding up
good times
good times
almost as much
as preparing for a wedding
do i see wedding planner in my future

posted by dwayne

From: LeftWingCracker

Kathyrn Bowers is going to fight!

According to this CA article, Kathyrn Bowers has decided NOT to plead out on bribery charges and will instead go to trial, which will be sometime this spring. Bravo for Kathryn!

Call me too idealistic, call me naive, whatever you want, but I am rooting for her. These charges are a stain on what has otherwise been a sterling career of public service, and I hope she is acquitted. After all that's happened to her recently, it's a good sign that she still has the stamina to fight.

From: Bar-B-Log

What is Bar-B-Log?

In Memphis, you can't swing a dead cat without hitting an establishment serving legendary BBQ. I grew up here and have devoured more than my fair share of tasty sandwiches. However with near-perfect BBQ never more than 5 minutes away, I've never really developed my own barbecuing skills. That's about to change.

I plan to focus on the sauce. I might also spend time getting sauced as I experiment with the new flavoring ideas that inspired this project. As I chronicle those experiments here, I expect to also interject other thoughts – primarily on BBQ philosophy, cooking and food in general.

I'm already hungry.

Basted by The Saucier

From: Rachel and the City

Fucking Shite

Have you ever been so angry about something, that you are not allowed to be angry about?

It fucking sucks.

Posted by Rachel

From: Dining With Monkeys

A-Tan
A-Tan Chinese Restaurant and Sushi Bar
3445 Poplar
901-452-4477

Warren caught wind that A-Tan opened a hibatchi bar recently, so we decided to check it out after picking the monkeys up from school. We found them both thoroughly tired and cranky at pick up, but decided to take them out in public anyway since neither of us had any intention of cooking or getting fast food.

We arrived at A-Tan at about 6:15pm and discovered that it was crawling with kids! There were happy families at almost every table. But I haven't even reviewed this place! I said to myself as if everyone in the city is hanging on my blog's every post.

A smiling host (the owner I presume) met us at the door and said, "Do you want Chinese or Japanese? We have both." We looked to our left and then to our right and replied, "Japanese." The host led us to the new part of the restaurant (which is easily twice the size of the original restaurant) and seated us at a shiny new hibatchi table. Jiro wasn't happy with our selection and kept lunging towards the "Chinese side" of the restaurant screaming, "Nemo!!!!!!!!!!" (Obviously there was a fish tank somewhere.) The table (one of many) seated ten much like Nagasaki, but the grill was much smaller, and thankfully surrounded by an 18 inch marble ledge. (A much better set up for wild monkeys.)

A waitress quickly came over for our drink orders and told us about the early bird special (two meats for $14.95). I wondered if there was a coupon somewhere in the Playbook that I should have cut out, but didn't dwell on it. As soon as we put in our order (Steak and Shrimp for me, Chicken and Shrimp for Warren, and Steak for Satchel and Jiro to split), Satchel said, "I have to go pee pee."

Better now than in the middle of dinner I thought as I happily got up from my chair. Then it dawned on me. This was Jiro's first diaper free restaurant experience since becoming potty trained a couple of weeks ago. He unfortunately is not a big fan of public restrooms and he almost always poops at some point during the dinner hour. Sweat started to bead on my head as I mustered some enthusiasm and said, "Jiro want to go potty with brother?"

"No," he said plainly.

Alrighty then.

By the time Satchel and I returned, the miso soup (chock full of tofu and seaweed) was being served and our chef was making his way over with the cart. He was very entertaining and much more animated than any of the guys we have seen at Nagasaki. He immediately started putting on a show for the monkeys, which they loved. (I loved it to0--except for the fact that it distracted Jiro from eating his seaweed.)

The chef banged his spatuals around a bit then set the whole grill on fire. Satchel was prepared, but Jiro was not. He buried his head in my armpit for a few minutes before resuming eye contact with the chef. The chef was undeterred by this and went on with his routine. Soon he was using his spatula to toss small pieces of rice into Satchel's open mouth. Then he stacked up onion rings to look like a volcano. Satchel was hanging on his every move and Warren and I were all smiles.

Once the fried rice was done, the chef dished it out to us. Even though the monkeys were sharing a meal, he gave them each a heaping portion. Jiro demanded a spoon and when I asked the chef for one he looked at me like I was speaking in tongues. I got up and tracked down a waitress and returned with two just moments later. Jiro tore through his rice in no time and declared, "I need to go pee pee."

I vaulted out of my chair and led him to the restrooms. Jiro refused to sit on the seat, but did agree to let me hold him over the bowl and aim for him. Then he had a grand time washing his hands and playing with the automatic paper towel dispenser.

By the time we got back to the table, the vegetables, meat, and even noodles were all done and piled on our plates. I dug into mine immediately. Warren and Satchel were busy munching away at their plates too. Jiro had a few noodles, a piece of broccoli, a lick of an onion, a sip of water, and then declared himself done. I took that as my cue to eat as fast as possible since I expected him to break free from his chair at any moment.

Jiro's first move was to steal Satchel's fork and throw it on the floor. I picked it up. Then he threw his fork about five feet away from the table where I couldn't reach it. "Fork pick up!" he said. As I started to get out of my seat, he yelled, "No, me do it!" The last thing on earth I wanted was for him to get out of his chair. I started to hold him in and make threats under my breath, but he was determined.

Warren took a moment to stop chewing and say, "Don't let him scream like that in here."

Oh.
My.
God.
Those are fightin' words!

I let go of Jiro and he immediately climbed out of his chair. He made one step toward the fork, shifted his weight, and then in a total fake out maneuver, made a break for the Chinese section of the restaurant. As I quickened my pace I could hear him proclaiming, "Nemo!!!!!!!!!" as if he were off to set him free.

As I rounded the bend, I saw Jiro squeeze through a tiny opening in the railing and then join two girls in pink smocks next to a small koi pond. Yes, A Koi pond! The little girls were busy breaking off the long leaves of an adjacent plant and using them to poke the fish while their mothers chatted away at the nearby table.

Clearly, Jiro had found his tribe.

"Don't touch the plants," I said from the other side of the railing, but he completely tuned me out and started plucking. I had no choice but to make my way around the railing and walk through several tables of happy diners to retrieve him.

He had no intentions of going easily and I was forced to cease and desist for several minutes. In return, he left the plants alone and chose to coo and point at the fish. After a few minutes of this he decided to start throwing rocks at the fish.

"That's it," I said as I scooped him up and carried him away screaming. Once we got back to the Japanese side I had a little talk with him about getting his act together. He nodded and pointed to a bowl of peppermints. I grabbed a few and headed towards the table. On the way I saw a waitress with fortune cookies and asked her to bring us a few of those too.

When we got back to our seats Warren and Satchel were still eating. The peppermints kept Jiro busy for a few minutes and I was able to resume eating my yummy but cold dinner. Satchel announced that he had to pee again and I looked at Warren and said, "I'm sorry but it is your turn."

Once they left the table, Jiro tried to make another break for it, but I quickly started making him empty promises of lollipops. Amazingly, this actually kept him in his seat until Warren and Satchel returned. Warren resumed eating and Satchel started fidgeting and playing. Luckily the fortune cookies came and offered some distraction.

Satchel's read, "To be loved, be lovable."

Jiro's read, "Now is the time to explore."

Thankfully Warren finally finished eating, so I sent him off with the boys to see Nemo while I paid up.

I sat patiently for about three minutes and waited for our waitress to appear. She never did. That's when I realized that I hadn't seen her since placing our order and I had no memory of what she looked like. I asked a busboy to tell her I needed my check. Still nothing. I waited some more. Warren came back over and said, "Are you ready?" I wanted to yell, "NO I'M NOT READY! I CAN'T FIND THE FUCKING WAITRESS!" but I didn't. I told him to take the monkeys (who were now crawling all over the place) outside.

I got up and went in search of our waitress. When that failed, I found the smiling host and told him of my dilemma. He quickly started asking every other waitress in sight for the whereabouts of my waitress, but no one knew. He startd to get a little frantic and said, "Come on! She's got kids!" which I thought was kind of awesome.

Finally, the host sent someone into the kitchen in search of our ticket and apologized profusely to me. I was really hoping for a free meal at this point, but it didn't seem likely. I started to wonder if maybe I shouldn't have just left without paying and saved myself all of this stress. At the very least I wanted to say, "Do you realize I am a food writer for the The Flyer!

In the end, I smiled at the nice host, told him everything was okay, and left a 15% tip. (Normally I would leave a lot more.) It was a truly miserable end to a dinner that started off pretty awesome. However, I still I think anyone with kids who know how to behave would have a lovely time at A-Tan. (Assuming they don't get our waitress.)

posted by Stacey Greenberg

From: The Mothersville Post

All A-Bored!

The Parent Guilt Train is all fired up and chugging toward a media outlet near you! It seems to have gotten on track a few weeks ago, when the Internet was all a-twitter with Helen Kirwan-Taylor, the American-born British mom (er, mum) who made headlines by saying that she was "bored" by her children. Or more accurately, with her childrens' activities. You could practically hear the message boards crackle and smoke as the media followed the story by dividing us into sides: the selfish, distant mothers who have their own interests outside the home and the saintly, self-sacrificing but somewhat pathetic mothers whose lives revolve around their children. A lot of vitriol was tossed in the direction of the writer, too, for daring to assert that mothering isn't an especially stimulating experience. Frankly, I agree with her. Mothering, and especially mothering a very young child, can feel like a tremendous drain of mental energy. What I found offensive, however, was her self-centered idea that the rest of us are thrilled to drive to soccer practices or pick Play-Doh out of our hair. Does she never talk to other moms? Heck yeah, it's boring, but it's part of the gig. Whether we're home full-time, work when we can, or commute 100 miles a day, being a mom is a tough job and yes, it does get in the way of the fun stuff we would like to do with our free time.

Speaking of jobs, Linda Hirshman says all women should have one. Based on what I could glean from The Colbert Report (yes, I get all my news from Comedy Central), Hirshman argues that all women should work in order to balance their economic position and therefore their power in society at large. And what about the kids these women might have? Who takes care of them? Hirshman says parents should divide childcare evenly. Well, okay. Yeah. That would be great. Equal contribution from both parents without fiscal penalty to either. In the meantime, before the Grand Restructuring Of Our Entire Social System is complete, what do we do? Feel bad, that's what.

So it looks like we just can't win - working mothers are too interested in their own needs and are depriving their children of crucial bonding time, and at-home mothers are child-obsessed doormats who are causing the inevitable destruction of feminism. Oh, and don't forget - anything negative our kids do once they're adults is all our fault, too.

Sigh. Exhausted maternal sigh.

I think it's about time for me to publish my long-in-the-works parenting treatise, called Get Off Our Freakin' Backs, We're Doing The Best We Can. Book signings will be held at spas across the country, all at least 100 yards from crying babies, ringing cell phones and 24-hour news stations.

posted by Mothersville

From: Downtown Books

Here we are!

Well, we are open.

10am till 5 pm, or until the last person with money leaves.

We hope you will come by and see us, as we continue to move many more books and shelves in.

For the next week or so, you will have to enter through the Tobacco Bowl, as we are still working on our own entrance.

Until you can make it in, here are a few pictures for your viewing pleasure.

posted by Hugh Hollowell

[photos at original post]

From: Blake's Blog

Who knows what evil lurks under women's shirts?

"Excuse me, Miss, but could you remove your sunglasses, your jacket, your shoes and...um...."
Everyone realizes that the war on terrorism has affected our lives in ways large and small. But who could have predicted that terrorists might be the undoing (in a very literal sense) of gel-filled bras?

Yes, in case you haven't heard this, gel-filled bras are supposed to be included on the list of items airline passengers are no longer permitted to carry or, in this case, wear. In theory, those types of bras could be filled with liquid explosives. No boom-or-bust jokes, please.

Obviously, this brings some questions to mind. Like how many airport screeners are actually going to have the guts to accuse women of needing that kind of enhancement to their natural attributes? How and where will bra inspections be taking place? And if gel-filled products are a problem, how much longer will it be before suspicion turns toward women with breast implants?

I know airport screening is serious business. If security officials feel it's necessary, I'm not going to be the one to argue. (Since I don't wear bras, gel-filled or otherwise, it's really not my problem.)

But I have to wonder if Islamic terrorists who believe women should dress and behave modestly foresaw that their actions might one day lead to women having to strip off their undergarments in public airports. A strange turn of events indeed.

Posted by Blake Fontenay

From: WindyLou

Over and Out

I think I am just about blogged out. It was fun and all, but every single aspect of my life has gone to shit:

unemployed: check

broken heart: check

bad hair: check

financial ruin: check

well, kids that about sums it up. photo albums updated fairly regularly.

From: Rachel and the City

I Like Structure

Right now I'm going through one of those times in life where you have two possible situations arise, both of which would be fantastic to partake in, but of course, they overlap and you must choose one or the other. You know, like if you had the chance to get a backstage pass at your favorite band's show the same night as your best friend's birthday party where you know her hot cousin that you hooked up with last year might be flying in. The problem is, you won't know unitl the night of the party/show if your connection will be able to really hook you up or if said dude will actually be at the party. Keep in mind this is a lame analogy, what I am talking about actually has more to do with a possible job offer, that pays a lot of money but would mean I would miss out on some other stuff that i have really been looking forward to.

Anyway, all week I've been dealing with possibilities and it sucks. I just want to know the deal and be done with it all so I can move on instead of wrapping my head around a bunch of scenarios that may or may not happen. What ususally comes of this is I get all worked up and then nether situation pans out.

In other news, I'm getting more offers to cover music festivals - which is cool, but I always end up spending more money at these things than I make. Still to come this year, I'll be heading to Austin City Limits in Austin, Memphis' own Gonerfest, Voodoo Experience in NOLA, and CMJ in NYC. There really is no rest for the wicked.

Posted by Rachel

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From: Daily Diversion

SLIPPING SLOWLY INTO SENILITY...

Sometimes I do feel this way, and I'm way too young to be losing my mind. However, yesterday as I was leaving work I thought to myself "Did I post this morning? What did I do today?"

My entire day was a blur. Maybe it was because, once again, I was busy during every hour between when I got here and when I left. I don't know, but I hate to think that I can't remember the simple things that I do every day.

My wife brought me home a present yesterday that fit perfectly with the new crack I have. She bought me a college football preview magazine. Usually by this time of the year I've already collected three or more of them, but she gave me my first! Really, folks, she is the best!

Now, onto my new crack... I got NCAA Football 2007 the other day. I held off playing it all weekend and you don't know how hard that is, just seeing it sitting in the floor right in front of you beckoning you "Oh! You know you want to open me up and play me. Ooh! Just press the big circle and insert me in the machine. Yeah... That's sooooo good! Don't stop! Press 'A'! Now 'X'! Harder! Harder! No! Don't stop! I don't care if your wife just got home!!"

Whoa! What just happened? I kind of blacked out for a moment. Anyway, I held off on playing it all weekend, just to spare Adrianne the agony of watching me revert to being 8 years old. She already has to deal with the 15 year old version of me on a daily basis. I cranked it up yesterday while I was home for lunch, and, let's just say, my lunch ran a little longer than usual.

Really, it happens... I'm a video game junkie. I admit it. I could've stayed up all night last night playing and not thought anything about it. Adrianne went to bed without me, which will probably happen for a while, until I finish my first season. So far, I'm two games in and am 2-0. No, I'm not going to start blogging every day about my exploits on a video game!

Anyway, I've lost a little more of my mind this morning, so what I've tried to do is document it here and on "The Rules of Thumb". I hope someone enjoys watching me lose my mind?

Inflicted on you by John

From: Downtown Books

Reading against the clock.

I still marvel over the joy of it all; these people trust me with the knowledge of what they read, what there interests are, what they believe in, what they aspire to. Your closest friend would probably not come up to you and say something like "“I am thinking of leaving Catholicism and am looking at several of the animalistic religions." ” Yet, I have had similar conversations more than once with customers. Or the hot girl, who you think about asking out, until, that is, you see the stack of recovery books she buys and decide that anyone who buys 5 books with titles like living with your heroin addiction and DEALING with the aftermath of sexually transmitted disease does not need a complication like a bookseller (or at least this one) in her life.

My customers honor me by letting me have a glimpse of their personal lives, and I value that trust. Sometimes, however, it goes way beyond that.

Tom Walter came in the store last spring. For those of you in the nether parts of the world, Tom was (from 1984 to 2005) the Memphis Commercial Appeal'’s television reporter. As such, he had an eagle eye view on pop culture, for better or worse. It was always a joy when he came in, because he had a unique view on society that you may not (or may) agree with, but you loved him for the conversation and the thoughts.

Tom, as I said, came in to the store last spring. After the customary chit chat, he said he might need a job soon, and would I consider hiring him. It seems he was leaving the paper.

"“What the hell for?"” I ask.

It turned out Tom had cancer. Bad cancer. The sort from which you don'’t get better. He told me that if he only had so many days left, he was not going to spend them writing about Britney Spears. He had things to do, books to read, and he wanted to spend some time with his family. When I asked when he was leaving the paper, he said he hoped before August, because he never, ever wanted to write another word about Elvis. When he left, he was upbeat, cheerful, and had that smile that would make your whole day.

Over the next year or so, Tom would come in, bringing huge amounts of his discards, as he called them, and told me if I could use any of them, to make a credit on his account. I looked over Tom'’s account today, and he took many books out of the store, whittling away at his credit line, but then bringing more back so it never got even close to even. I would bet he took over 50 books out of the store in the last year, and has never paid a cent. Tom read good things, but not pretentious things. He felt no reason to read something like Flaubert just so he could look "“intellectual"”. You see, Tom was reading against the clock.

Tom has the distinction of having the largest line of credit ever at Midtown Books, with it once approaching $400. I once joked with him that if he brought any more books in, he was going to have to start paying some of the rent.

I was thinking about it today, and I guess the last time I saw Tom was about 3 months ago. He had lost weight, but not horribly so. He still had that smile, and when asked (but not until), he said he was doing "“OK"”. He was excited about our opening the store Downtown, and he said he could not wait to see it. I think he had been in since, but not when I was there.

Tom died Saturday morning.

Damn.


posted by Hugh Hollowell

From: artbutcher

New Artmemphis.net Interviews

well
well
well
when was the last time
there was two posts
on the same day
by us here at artbutcher
by the way
the best of memphis ballots are out
so be sure to put this blog down
as he bes n memphis
we all know it is not
because
it really is not about anything is it
not like those about
politics
the local hipster scene
romanians
downtown books
nothing interesting like a blog
about other blog
or about going out to eat with kids
or wine tastings
nothing great like that
but in a half ass attempt
for self gratification
motivation
preservation
vote for this blog in the flyer
you can even vote online
this will be a precursor
to my imminent political career
anyways
enough about me
there are new artmemphis.net interviews
guess what
i interviewed myself this time
you can not believe
how hard it is
to ask yourself questions
to answer the questions
you ask yourself
dwayne butcher
jada thompson
greely myatt
tim kinard
annabelle meacham
pinkney herbert

posted by dwayne

From: Fertile Ground

Tom Waits

Ok so maybe I lied. As much as I like to think that I would have packed up the monkeys and headed to Kidzapalooza on a moments notice, I have to say that I'm pretty happy that I was in Memphis on August 4th.

On a whim (and at the bidding of my hipster friends) I purchased two tickets to the Tom Waits concert. Now, I don't know much about Tom Waits other than a) he has a scratchy voice and b) he played Lily Tomlin's dude in "Shortcuts," but I do know that if one has the opportunity to see him live in concert, one should jump on it.

I dubbed the concert the "Hipster Convergence" and began looking forward to it almost immediately after purchasing our tickets. I briefly worried that I had nothing to wear and that I would be exposed as "musically challenged" by the beautiful and hip people in attendance, but that didn't stop me from being excited. There was a big hoo-ha about the tickets and having to pick them up at will call with a government issued picture ID, the credit card used to make the purchase, and a ten digit secret code, but even that wasn't so bad.

My mom agreed to watch the monkeys and told us to "Go out and have a good time. Stay out late. Do whatever you want," which in itself was pretty heady. Warren and I met up with several others at Blue Fin prior to the show and I immediately downed three vodka tonics like it was 2003 and I didn't have a care in the world. I was so drunk I said to Warren, "Sure, go ahead and order the salmon and quail egg pizza" and even managed to eat several slices of it after it arrived. ("What's this yellow stuff?" I inquired mid-slice completely oblivious to the quail egg part of his order. Ew.)

My spirits could not be dampened. And to prove it, I ordered a tall boy once we were inside the Orpheum and drank it out of a really large paper cup. By the time Tom Waits took the stage I was completely in love with him and everyone in the theater. I loved his scarecrow dance, I loved his scratchy voice, his giant megaphones, the way his shadow danced on the curtains, the funny stories he told, the weird jacket he had on, his hot little son playing drums--everything. I totally see what the hype is all about. That man has it going on.

Amazingly there didn't seem to be any merch at the show, which is pretty cool, but I wish I would have had a CD to play or a poster to stare at on Saturday when I was completely hungover and hating life.

posted by Stacey Greenberg

From: Paul Ryburn's Journal

Thursday update

I just got home from a meeting of the Center City Commission's Safety & Traffic Task Force. Very, very productive meeting and well worth taking an afternoon off work. All the major groups were there - Center City, Convention & Visitors Bureau, MPD, Ride the Ducks, Redbirds, Peabody Place Security, and many more... and, of course, Residents for a Safer Downtown Memphis. I took extensive notes, and as soon as I get them typed up I'll post them on the news section of RSDM's site.

However, I'm so excited about one thing that I'm going to go ahead and let the cat out of the bag: The Memphis Police Downtown Entertainment District has a new commander, Major Johnny Currin. The EDU is the unit that provides extra coverage from 7 PM to 3 AM when people are out having a good time. Through RSDM I have known Johnny for a couple of months now, and let me tell you, he is ready to take action. He has been out on the streets on foot himself the past several weekends. I can't tell you how encouraged I am about the safety situation downtown with him in charge.

I finally made it to Wine Wednesday at LoLo's Table last night, after meaning to go for several months. Every week they select a couple of reds and a couple of whites and put them on sale for $12 a bottle, which for a restaurant is an incredibly low price. So I brought a gorgeous blonde up there and we shared a bottle of Falling Star chardonnay. Food was great too - I ordered the trout, which turned out to be the biggest serving of fish I have ever seen in my life; she had the evening's special, which was a southwestern pasta with chicken.

Keep in mind that they also have Sangria Saturdays - pitchers of either red or white sangria for $8 when you also order food. I've never seen white sangria before - I'm going to have to go back sometime soon and give it a try.

ATTENTION NEIGHBORS IN MY BUILDING: Last Monday evening, the aforementioned gorgeous blonde came over and hung out at my apartment for the first time... and as soon as I mentioned the rooftop deck, the first words out of her mouth were, "We need to have a party up there." YEAH! Haven't we been talking about having a party on the roof for months and months? Enough talk; it's time for action! Let's make it happen.

I'm not going to the weekly party on the Peabody roof tonight. Sister Hazel is playing, and I avoid that place like the plague when they have a big-name band. Extra expensive and the lines are too long. Instead, I'll be hitting the Saucer for a couple of hours to type up the meeting notes on my laptop, then I'm going to a private party for my friend Novella Smith Arnold who is running for County Commission. Hopefully it will be a victory party.

Other than a private function on Saturday afternoon, I have no plans at all for the weekend at this point. Sometimes those turn out to be the best weekends though. I will say that I plan to be at Pint Nite at the Saucer on Monday. For some reason I have a feeling Pint Nite will be looking better than it has in months... about 10 months.

Dawgie Style, the new restaurant on Madison between Second and Third, is now open. According to the Center City Commission's Livin' It Up newsletter, they serve hot dogs, sub sandwiches and wraps. They're open 7 am to 11 pm Monday-Friday and 11 am to 10 pm Saturday and Sunday. Downtown residents: Please go by and give this place a try. We really need to support restaurants that have the guts to stay open into the evening hours downtown, rather than just for lunch. And they're open Sundays too - so I have a new place to stumble for a meal after my champagne bottle at Sleep Out's is finished. Cool.

All right. Time to pack up the laptop and go visit my waitresses.

Blogger Bash

Serrabee has put together a Blogger Bash for all Memphis bloggers.

Blogger Bash

Young Avenue Deli

Thursday, Aug. 10
Sunday, Aug. 13

7 p.m.

From: Urf!

Write That Down

We've just now returned from our 1269-mile road trip, and what a trip like that does is give me time to think. The Quartet is right there behind me, so I usually start thinking about them and how they're being raised. I've decided that there is one thing I should teach them above all others. This one thing, I learned on this road trip, is more important than being polite, or being responsible or loving thy neighbor. This one thing is that the damn left lane is for passing only! Write that down.

birthed by RJA at