T.V.O.D.TM   for April 2001

... and don't forget my birthday is on April 28 ...

Easter arrives on April 15 this year (and yes, I know it is tax day also!).  The prophet Joel tells us, “Rend your hearts and not your garments, and turn unto the Lord, your God.” (Joel 2:13)

During this season of Passover and Easter, I encourage you to practice metanoia (literally Greek for “turning around”).  In that regard, may I suggest giving someone a second chance?  They say there are no second acts, but I think I’ve lived long enough to know that’s not true at all!

And reflect on all that you have and will have.  As St. Paul so bluntly put it, “Keep your eye on the prize.”

Music at Ross Humphrey's apartment

It was a great dinner on Tuesday, April 10 when Jeff Marshall and Alli Wong came down from Boston to see their band, C60, (on their own Monolyth label) perform at Brownie’s on Avenue A in the East Village.

Our first stop though was at the apartment of Ross Humphrey on St. Mark’s Place.  While there we listened to Blue Man Group’s Audio in DVD 5.1 Surround Sound Mix; Ross is in charge of sound for them and this was an amazing example of their work.  On one side is the audio album, on the other is interview footage with the band.

He also played us a cd by the American Analog Set (on the Emperor Jones label out of Canada); I guess I’d have to file it under ‘trance’ but it was compelling music.

Dinner at Esperanto

Around 10, he suggested dinner at Esperanto at 145 Avenue C near the corner of East 9th Street for Cuban food.  This might more properly be defined as ‘fusion Cuban’ but good it was!

First we split some appetizers, including a clean and fresh cerviche ($6), “unusually made ... the cubes of raw fish, tomato and onions were marinated together in lime juice, creating almost a ceviche salad in which the textures harmonized perfectly.”  (The quote from Eric Asimov's NY Times review.)

Of course there were drinks including mojitos (rum with a mixture of ground sugar and mint leaves) and kiwi roskas (a frozen drink with vodka and fresh kiwi–they always seem to be out of the mango).

Then entrees:  Alli had a fantastic square of flounder steamed in a banana leaf with coconut milk and cilantro ($12); Jeff had salmon and Ross a vegetarian sandwich of roasted vegetables with friend plantains.  We’ll be back!

But First Vodka

And speaking of Bob Molloy, he has been spending his adulthood in the great state of Alaska.  You know how cold it can get up there, so it should be no surprise to find him drinking vodka (particularly since he's so close to Russia!).  He and his wife, Kristine Schmidt, are working on bringing a new Russian vodka to this country and since I also love the stuff, here's what he has to say:

Magadanskaya or “Maggy” Vodka is a venerable Russian vodka, but new in the USA.  “Maggy” is distilled and bottled in Magadan, Russia by the Magadan Liquor–Vodka Factory.

Its history began more than 100 years ago when Russian Cossacks exploring Siberia discovered Talskaya Springs.  Located 150 miles from Magadan, it is the source of the unique, pure mineral water used in the distilling process and the only vodka with mineral waters in the formula.  It is an ultra premium spirit because of its unparalleled filtering process, distilled four times with only the gentle pull of gravity and s-l-o-w-l-y filtered six times.

Magadanskaya is made from the finest wheat grown in Russia, incorporating just the right amount of Siberian potatoes and pure Talskaya Springs mineral waters to impart a delightful and unique flavor.  “Maggy” is handcrafted in small batches, thus ensuring strict adherence to its old recipe.

“Maggy” often has been the celebratory drink of choice, selected by Russian political leaders for events with historical significance.  In July 1945, leaders of the Soviet Union ordered cases of it to be shipped to the Potsdam Conference held by President Harry S Truman, Winston Churchill, and Joseph Stalin.

The onion dome top is a shot glass.  Per Russian custom, you can’t put it down unless you’ve drunk your shot (in this case, because of the pointed top of the onion dome).

The Russian authorities have never allowed Maggy to be exported from Magadan for sale in the USA, until recently.  At present, it is available only in Alaska, California, and Arizona.

And Now the Visit

Coincidentally, Ben Lynch, his wife Josie Patterson and their two boys Jamie and Pete joined Bryan and I at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden for a perfect Saturday afternoon in April, one week after Easter.  It was the first time I’d seen Ben in many years and we all had a lovely time together.  We spent the whole afternoon with his family and then Josie took the kids uptown while Bryan and I showed Ben the East Village and our apartment.

While there, we had a chance to toast Bob Molloy with his own Maggy vodka, a bottle of which he mailed me the previous week.  Click on the photo of Ben and I for a movie clip of it.

And it wouldn’t be a proper visit without dinner at Pangea, now would it?  Of course, Bryan and Ben both had their world-famous spaghetti bolognese while I had a healthy risotto with various green veggies.  We'll look forward to seeing him and his family again in the future.

Joey Ramone, R.I.P.

[Redacted from Associated Press]  Singer Joey Ramone, the punk rock icon whose signature yelp melded with the Ramones’ three-chord thrash to launch an explosion of bands like the Clash and the Sex Pistols, died on Easter Sunday of lymphoma.  He was 49.

The gangly lead singer with the leather jacket, tinted glasses and permanently torn jeans, was admitted to a hospital in March with lymphoma.  The Ramones  (its four members adopted the common last name after forming the band in 1974) came out of Queens, New York.

While British bands received the media attention once punk rock exploded, all were schooled by the Ramones’ tour of England in Summer 1976.

Arturo Vega, the Ramones’ longtime artistic director, commented: “They changed the world of music.  They rescued rock and roll from pretentiousness and unnecessary adornments.”

Joey Ramone was born Jeffrey Hyman on May 19, 1951.  His career started during the early 1970s, when he played in several New York bands, occasionally under the name Jeff Starship.  But his collaboration with Dee Dee, Johnny and Tommy Ramone was something special.  They became fixtures in clubs like CBGBs and Max’s Kansas City, joining fellow musicians like Patti Smith and Richard Hell.  The Ramones disbanded in 1996, since which Joey kept a fairly low profile, occasionally popping up to perform or host shows at Manhattan clubs, making radio show appearances, and working on a solo album that was never released.

Me and Joey

My personal experience with Joey goes back to my Spit dj days.  Joey arrived at the club one night in 1984, just after I began a radio gig at WFNX (see autobiography). Oedipus (then, as now, program director of WBCN) was there and I put Joey and then Oedi on the air, since we were running a live feed to the station.

Joey was monosyllabic as usual; Oedi was very complimentary to WFNX.  But I still got suspended for two weeks for putting him on the air!  So yes, I remember the night well.

Pet Shop Boys

In other news, Closer to Heaven, the new musical with book by Jonathan Harvey (and yes, there's a gay connection) and music and lyrics by Pet Shop Boys, opens in London on May 15, 2001.

Ryuichi Sakamoto, Tortoise and Add N To X

Finally, Dave Wohlman recommends Tortoise (a band from Chicago) and their fourth album, Standards, as well as Add N To X with Add Insult To Injury (“fourth release from the all analogue moog band”).  He gives five stars to Ryuichi Sakamoto’s Raw Life Live in Osaka.  “A Sakamoto ‘opera’ consisting of piano, found narrative, orchestra and choir.  Recorded in 1999 and released in 2000.  I found it on Ebay for $10.50; it sells for $44!”

My Father, My Daughter is a memoir of the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela undertaken by Donald Schell, rector of St. Gregory of Nyssa in San Francisco, and his daughter Maria Schell.  It is the latest in the series of JourneyBooks put out by my bosses, Church Publishing.  This one was edited by Frank Tedeschi.

Frank also answers that age-old question, “Why do Episcopal churches have red doors?”

I’ve decided that the answer to this perennial non-question should be, “Because all architects worth their salt know that God is fond of red.  It’s an exciting, stylish, Spirit-filled color.  And we all know that God has good taste.”  That should shut everyone up.... ft

Now, knowing me, what do you think I’d like best for my birthday?  How about four days of eating?  Yes!

It all started off on Thursday, April 26 with sushi and sashimi at Mie, our regular destination for Japanese on Second Avenue at Twelfth Street (in the basement of the Dick’s Bar building, no less).  Sushi, sashimi … and yes, plenty of sake … the perfect start.

On Friday, it was the official birthday dinner.  Yes, a day early but why wait?  The best place for Thai food in our area is Holy Basil on Second Avenue between Ninth and Tenth Streets.  Not only is the food perfectly prepared, it’s perfectly presented as well.  Plus, for Bryan, it has the advantage of a small room over-looking Second Avenue that allows smoking.

You may remember that the last time we ate there (with Michelle Petersen) we saw Lou Reed.  As for food and drink, the restaurant has an especially fine wine list and I normally pick the Gewurtztraminer that they serve.  But this night they were out of it to my great disappointment; so we went Hungarian instead with a Tokai that turned out to be quite sublime.

To eat, Bryan had a salad of grapefruit and ‘stuff’ followed by Bangkok Duck, a crispy duck with minced garlic and ground black pepper sauce that is one of their signature dishes.  I had Yum Nuer (slices of charcoal beef tossed with red onion, scallion, cucumber, tomatoes and Thai spices) followed by Moo Pad Preeg Khing, a dish of sliced port and string beans sautéed in a sweet red curry with kaffir lime leaves.  To say we were quite content would be an understatement.

Saturday, April 28, my official birthday (at 11:24 pm), it was pizza and beer after a long day of work.  I am currently in charge of the data entry for the Episcopal Clerical Directory, the compendium of over 17,000 American clergy, and since it is well over deadline I’m working weekends to accomplish the task.

And lest one think that it’s a cop out to have pizza, it should be noted that Bryan doesn’t especially care for pizza so it’s a sacrifice for me.  And I’m not normally a beer drinker but the thought of it has been in my mind for the last few weeks.  The only downside is that B hasn’t been well for the last few days and on this day he doesn’t even get out of bed.  So our plan to walk to the West Village to John’s Pizza is downgraded to ordering in from Pizza Town.

Nonetheless, you must hear my story of John’s Pizzeria, 278 Bleeker Street, just off Seventh Avenue at the end of Gay Street.  We turn back the clock to the 1970s.  I’m having pizza and beer with a college buddy, Doug Hadden, when we start overhearing the conversation in the booth behind us.  The two men are definitely discussing a screenplay (yes, that's the link to the script) and it’s obviously about a disparate couple, one a WASP woman and one a nebbishy Jewish man.  And one of the speakers is even more obviously Woody Allen.  Yes, it was he and Marshall Brickman working out the details for Annie Hall and about half a year later Doug and I would be able to see the fruit of that labor in the movie theaters.

OK, back to the present … it’s pizza and beer (I picked up a mixed six-pack of Stella Artois, Guinness Stout and Newcastle Brown Ale) along with Saturday Night Live.  Well, at least pizza and beer as we fall asleep just minutes after my official birthday time of 11:24 PM.

Sunday, April 29 and another day of work; indeed, because of housecleaning and data entry I actually skip church before getting back home a little after 5 pm.  Shortly after, my parents arrive from New Jersey along with my cousin Lorraine Dizzia, her husband John and their daughter Maria, the actress.

It’s my official family birthday dinner at Tappo, a new Mediterranean restaurant on Twelfth Street and First Avenue.  And yes, Tappo indicates that there will be many small plates of food served up family style.  We start off with an appetizer round of giant langostinos in their shells, manzo (sliced beef) in balsamic vinegar and covered in arugula, grilled baby artichokes and other sundries.  Plus the beginning of four bottles of superb Chianti which puts everyone in a good mood.

The service is lavish with five men of various ethnic backgrounds (Aziz is from Morocco, Andy from America, one from Bologna, etc.) taking care of us at all times.  For entrees, it’s a risotto for Mom and ricotta raviolini with butter and sage for me, seared tuna over corona beans for Bryan, tagliatelle with an assortment of beautiful shellfish for Dad and lots of whole fish for the rest of the table.  It’s a sumptuous feast followed by espresso and cappuccino along with perfect desserts including a panne cotta (literally, cooked cream) for me.

Which of course reminds me of the last time I had that dessert at Da Silvano with Dangerboy while seated next to Meg Ryan and Dennis Quaid.  For that story, you’ll have to turn back to the diary notes, specifically September of 1996.

[I wanted to pass along this commentary on the Grammy awards from Thom Lane:]

I just wrote you a wonderful email reflecting on everything from the Grammy’s to World hunger but the computer crashed before I could get it out.

So … just imagine a wonderful letter … it’s so easy if you try … no more war or hunger and no religion too.  Ooops, that’s not what you want.  That was another guy living in New York.

I think I said hooray for Steely Dan getting their award 25 years too late and that it should have gone to a more contemporary act like ... well, you know who ... and his good pal Elton badly needs a GYM membership.  Funny how the Dan sing about an older Uncle lusting for a teenage girl and it raises no controversy.

Try this address; it came from a former boss at Lotus.  You click on the UN site and one of the companies displaying their banner pays for some hungry person in some horrible part of the world to live another day in their crummy life.

… Until finally they are recognized and awarded a Grammy 25 years later for their native musicianship.  There, I tied it all together ... (another wonderful letter).

The Runaway Bunny by Margaret Brown

Let us also remember Margaret Wise Brown, the author of The Runaway Bunny.  In it, a young bunny tells his mother various fantasy scenarios about how he will run away by turning into various animals, such as a fish or a fox.  After each transformation the mother bunny tells what she will turn into so that she can catch the little bunny and continue to look after him and keep him safe.  By the end of the book the little bunny is secure and content in his mothers arms.