Pastafazoola

Quentin's Friends

2005-11-28T10:00:00.000-08:00

just had to post this - New York in a nutshell

2. Invite: Dynamic Meditation Teleclass this Wed 11/30.

More Gleamings

2005-10-19T13:20:00.000-07:00

CENTER POINT

Several in this community have been bush hogging their land. It makes it look a lot better. They have also started cutting more timber in this community.

Keith & Kay Swisher of Guntersville came out and sowed grass seed around the pool they had dug recently.

Randy Smith has had his pond dug bigger.

Micah Berry spent the night with Jacob Clark at Grove Oak.

Red Simpson & daughter Phyllis Gilliland, both of Grove Oak, were in this community one day.

Quentin's Friends

2005-10-12T13:46:00.000-07:00

Another semi-recurring bit, focusing on select items from a listserv I'm on - a snapshot into the needs and offerings of various NY residents.

Seeking: Videographer for hip, cool dog events
Invite: Seminar on the Joys of Adopting an Adult Pet
Seeking: Ride home for mini-Doberman

Seeking: Successful and Ambitious Women Interested in Mastermind Goal Group
Invite: Chat with Dr. Bernie Siegel...

Seeking: Dubai friends / business contacts
Recommend: Reading about wine

Seeking: acoustic consultant
Seeking: Holistic Dermatologist

Seeking: Seedy Hotel/Motel Suggestions
Offered: 60's-70's Style Location

Seeking: Work/Cheap Housing for my Sister!
Offered: Pet-sitting / Proof-reading / Resume writing / Public Health ResearchSkills
Offered: Free Teleclass 10/17, How to Figure Out What You Want When Youare Changing Careers

Seeking: People who have placed sardonic personal ads

Gleamings

2005-09-29T09:04:00.000-07:00

What is a Gleaming, you may ask? It's what I hope will become a recurring segment: gleanings from the Advertiser-Gleam, the semiweekly (Wed, Sat) newspaper of Guntersville, Alabama, a small lake resort town outside of Huntsville. Mostly these will be items selected from the community pages of the paper, in which a local posts a column of updates on her co-locals.

PLEASE NOTE: The intention here is not to mock small-town life in general or Guntersville in particular. I just see something intriguing, evocative, poignant, or unique in the use of language in these, read singly or as a narrative. Sometimes the level of detail (or omission) is particularly striking.

September 3, 2005

ASBURY
James Earl Rians and some of his family attended a walking horse show in Shelbyville, Tenn. Mr. Rains' wife Maria is a resident of the Albertville Nursing Home.
Matthew and Courtney Davidson have moved into their new mobile home. They put the trailer on the same place they had their old trailer.
Seventeen youths of Asbury Methodist Church went skating and reported having a good time.

MARTLING
The annual gospel singing at the Ed Otinger place on the Blue Bend road will be today (Saturday) starting at 4:00. All singing groups are invited, along with the public. It will take place under the trees. People should bring lawn chairs. Fish and barbecue plates will be available. Those who want to bring a dessert or other dish should do so. This singing has been going on for many years. For more details or instructions on how to get there, call ______.
Gainnell McClendon's son David and his family live at New Orleans and they didn't have to leave their home. They had some damage from Hurricane Katrina. They had a generator to run some of their appliances.
Lulu Belue, Joyce Windsor and Betty Hammock attended the Sand Mountain Association at the New Macedonia Primitive Baptist Church at Section. There were so many ministers they couldn't preach all those 2 1/2 days.
S.J. Childress has had 3 bypasses. He is home and doing fine. S.J. and Louise had company. They went to a horse show.

Rob & Sheryl's Emmy Report, 2005

2005-09-29T08:52:00.000-07:00

We begin our story at the Standard Hotel in downtown Los Angeles, where the “Daily Show” housed its entire staff. Of course, not everyone at the hotel was a fan of the show. At check- in, Rob’s co-worker Jason Reich overheard the following conversation concerning one Mr. Jon Stewart:

Clerk #1: “Hey, did you see the guy from ‘Half-Baked’ is staying here? But he’s grayed a little.”
Clerk #2: “Yeah, he has his own show on Comedy Central now.”
Clerk #1: “Oh, I only watch Comedy Central for ‘Mind of Mencia’.”

Fortunately, several members of the Academy were more familiar with Stewart’s work (and that of his 13 writers), and so Sunday afternoon we found ourselves in a limousine on our way to the Shrine Auditorium for the 57th Annual Emmy Awards. As in past years, the city was clogged with limos, stretch hummers, and even a stretch Mini-Cooper (Is that just a Cooper?). But not everyone believed in motorized transportation: From our car window, we saw Zach Braff (“Scrubs”) passing by on foot and waving at all of us suckers stuck in traffic, as well as David Letterman sitting at a bus stop, in his best Emmy formal shorts and T-shirt.

We also passed a regular annual sight outside the Emmys: the God-arazzi. These are people who line the route to the Shrine Auditorium, holding signs with messages like, “Christ or Satan?” and “Have You Seen the Big Picture? Rev. 21:1-8” and “Do you worship posers? What will you do when you see Jesus?” Joining them was a man with slightly more earthly concerns, handing out demo discs and wearing a sign telling Hollywood “Let Me Sing Your Soundtracks???? I Want A Record Deal.”

Finally, we arrived at the red carpet – that is, the side of the red carpet reserved for us less famous nominees. Over our heads, the rabid Emmyheads who’d gotten carpetside seats screamed every time anyone vaguely recognizable walked by. When the actor who plays “Sawyer” on “Lost,” entered, the crowd – unable to recall all 800 cast members’ names – simply yelled, “LOOSSST!!!” Geena Davis’s new husband was also demanded by the hungry fans, with the respectful request, “HUSBAND!!!!!”

Arriving with us was another of Rob’s co-workers, J.R., and his mother, Gloria, who – despite traveling in a wheelchair – was cajoled, along with everyone else, to “hurry it up!” Gloria got her revenge on Hollywood, however, when her hurried pace caused her to roll right over the train on Paula Abdul’s dress, mid-interview. J.R.’s response: “I’ll never wash that wheel again.”

As we discovered at the door, the reason for the rush was that the ceremony had already begun, meaning we had to wait until the first commercial break to take our seats (pushing past a pregnant Jennifer Garner and a peeved-looking Ben Affleck). As befits those the Academy honors most, we were seated as far to the left as physically possible, next to event crew working on their laptops.

Sadly, though, the two of us weren’t able to enjoy the show together for very long, as the Academy cruelly decided to pull Rob and his colleagues away and onto the stage.

After appearing on stage, the Daily Show writers were led backstage to pick up their actual trophies – blank statues when you pick them up (the personalized bands are sent later via U.S. mail). Joining the newly-minted Emmy winners was Donald Trump, with whom the writers had a picture taken with. But as soon as the Donald left earshot, the imitations erupted (“That film speed was the most elegant film speed money can buy.” “This flashbulb has been used on princes and sultans…”).

Trump continued on into the thicket of press/commercial sponsor booths -- this year’s included the “Architectural Digest Greenroom” and the “Sprint/Nextel Sofa-And-Wet-Bar-Under-a-Tent Interview Chamber,” where a buxom blonde handed out glasses of citrus beverage and Doris Roberts was perpetually being interviewed. The writing staff, however, had to wait around for Jon and the executive producers to join them for photos. Entertainment Tonight’s Mary Hart and Access Hollywood’s Nancy O’Dell, stood there, too, with camera and crew at the ready, completely disinterested. Until Jon showed up. Suddenly there were photographers around him at every turn, snapping him in the middle of group shots which, let’s just say, maybe they didn’t care if the *whole* group made it into.

Meanwhile, Sheryl continued to watch the broadcast from her seat. On one side was one of the seat-fillers whose job it is to cover up the fact that most Emmy attendees are outside at the bar half the show. On the other side was Daily Show commentator Lewis Black, who ranged from grumbling every time reality shows were mentioned to exchanging pleasantries with former theater cohorts Blythe Danner and Philip Seymour Hoffman.

Eventually, Lewis Black also succumbed to the siren song of the Emmy bar, and Sheryl ended up sitting next to the aforementioned Gloria (a.k.a. J.R.’s Mom), who couldn’t keep her eyes off the most brightly shining star in the entire theater: the guy who played Bertie Wooster (a.k.a. Hugh Laurie from Fox’s “House.”) As luck would have it, Laurie walked up the aisle next to Gloria. Not wanting to miss a chance, Sheryl popped up, grabbed the actor’s hand, and exclaimed, “We’re with the Daily Show! And this is a Daily Show writer’s Mom!” Laurie graciously shook Gloria’s hand and congratulated her. Surely Jeeves would have been proud.

A few minutes later, Alan Alda walked up the very same aisle.

Sheryl: “Look, there’s Alan Alda.”
Gloria: “Oh, you’re right.”
Sheryl: “Want to meet him?”
Gloria: “Eh.”

Fans can be so fickle.

Once released with his colleagues from the photographers’ gauntlet, Rob made his way back to his seat through the lobby of the Shrine. With no food at the 4-hour ceremony, but plenty of cash bars and opportunities to slip out during commercials, it’s an interesting place to be. Legions of female attendees with dubious attachment to the Emmies (not to mention their gown straps) slink around, cooing over freshly won statues. Two of them converged on Rob, begging to have their picture taken with it. He agreed, but then the following argument broke out.

Slinkstress #1: Hey look, there’s Dennis Leary! Let’s get our picture taken with him!
Slinkstress #2: No, stupid, we have an Emmy. Let’s get our picture with that.
Slinkstress #1: But Dennis Leary’s getting away!
Slinkstress #2: But the Emmy’s right here!

Despite Rob’s offer to let them take the picture with Dennis Leary holding Rob’s Emmy, Leary did, in fact get away. The Solomonic dispute was resolved.

Eventually, Rob made his way back to Sheryl and their seats inside. Later on, during another commercial break – okay, bathroom break – both of us were out in the lobby together and got to meet Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant, creators of “The Office.” Rob made a joke, and was psyched to see his hero Gervais smile, but then saddened to see a man so brilliant still fallen victim to British dentistry.

Meanwhile, Sheryl was wandering the lobby, unable to find Rob (had he been kidnapped by slinkstresses?) However, she did find Daily Show correspondent Stephen Colbert, who was being congratulated on his Emmy by a beefy guy.

Guy: “Wow, congratulartions on the Emmy! What’d you get it for?”
Stephen Colbert: “Special Effects.”
Guy: “Really? What kind of stuff do you do?”
Sheryl: “He’s the best 3-d graphics man in Hollywood.”
Guy: “Cool! You gotta meet my buddy. He’s at a studio, maybe he could get you some work.”

After the awards ended, the nominees and their guests were ushered into the Governors’ Ball, a celebratory banquet held in a ballroom adjoining the auditorium. The Daily Show was seated at two tables corresponding to our positioning in the auditorium – all the way in the “bathroom corner.” Most of the tables at the Ball were occupied by skinny white writers and producers. But the table next to ours was noticeably different: It included a fat guy with curly hair, an Arab man, an Asian woman, an African-American man, and a hobbit from “Lord of the Rings.” Gradually, it dawned on us that these were, in fact, most of the cast members from “Lost.”

Although the theme of this year’s Ball was reportedly “1930s Ocean Liner,” the lack of organization made it more reminiscent of a certain ocean voyage from 1912. The evening’s entertainment was “The Ten Tenors” – an Australian singing group whose lowlight was an ill-advised BeeGees medley. The wait-staff had to check our tickets because unauthorized people (seat-fillers and slinkstresses, from our observation) were sneaking in. Two of them sat down at our table, in the seats of a temporarily missing writer and his wife, and helped themselves to their shrimp. Adding to the mix were obnoxious paparazzi, surrounding Jon’s table next to ours. When one of them went so far as to start bumping another writer’s wife, Sheryl took revenge by throwing a shrimp at his back. One final crustacean story: We walked by the “Six Feet Under” table, where we saw actor Matthew St. Patrick (“Keith”) sitting alone, ferociously chomping his shrimp in solitude, while wait-staffers tried to entertain him.

On the way out, we all got one last walk on the red carpet. For J.R.’s mother Gloria, this was a last golden opportunity to meet celebrities. After all, what Hollywood liberal can resist a woman in a wheelchair holding an Emmy? As we finished exchanging pleasantries with Glenn Close, Gloria asked in a soft voice, “Is that a Jeremy Piven?” Imagine our surprise to hear, “Why yes it is,” and see the “Entourage” co-star pivot a quick 180 to reach down and shake Gloria’s hand. Later, during the somewhat lengthy wait for our limo, Sheryl chatted with “Office” star Mackenzie Crook (“Gareth”), who was double-earringed, smoking, and quietly contemplating a tree.

Our driver took us to the Comedy Central after-party, held at a club (“Meson G”) in West Hollywood. Jon and the Daily Show correspondents made an appearance there, as did Reno 911’s Cedric Yarbrough (“Jones”) and a surprisingly tall, Chinese-shirt-wearing, constantly yelling, Quentin Tarantino. It took Rob some time to make it through the crowd surrounding Tarantino to request an autograph for a friend. Though Tarantino was kind enough to give it, we still haven’t figured out why exactly he was at a Comedy Central party.

But the most amusing “celebrity” sighting, at least to us, took place the next day at Burbank airport, when we were waiting to fly back to New York. Sitting across from us, waiting to board the same flight on discount, first-class-free carrier Jet Blue, was NBC President Jeff Zucker, the man many hold responsible for turning the #1 network into #4. Doesn’t bode well if even the Peacock is flying discount coach. Though don’t be surprised if next season’s shows have a lot of tie-ins to Terra Blue potato chips.

As it happened, the most telling Emmy moment also happened at Burbank International. Having stowed his 18-inch tall, sharp-winged metal implement into a carry-on bag, Rob sent it through the X-ray machine, where naturally it showed up to the screeners. Their only question about the statue, no doubt spurred by years in Hollywood: “Is it real?”

Our best answer: “Just for one night.”

---Rob & Sheryl

Oslo on the Hudson

2005-05-04T10:03:00.000-07:00

Last night I (briefly) played host to a wandering party of Norwegian media types, brought to me by Charles Coxe, an old college buddy-turned-Maxim-editor (the classic coming-of-stage story in Manhattan), and cousin of one of them. All worked for various branches of the Youth Dep't of Norwegian Public Television (http://nrk.no/) - "youth" being defined as 15-30. Some worked in radio, some in TV - mostly producing music and comedy variety shows, from the sound of it, one on the Web. They had evidently seen our show, though couldn't recall which European outlet that had been on.

Unfortunately, although the taping time had been announced as 7:00, it actually got underway a bit earlier, so by the time they arrived, they'd missed the first act, the most "written" part of the show. So I offered them a backup plan: In my office (took some chairwork - there were 5 of them plus Charles), I'd let them watch a tape of last night's show.

After some "24"-like frantic inter-office paging to locate a researcher who supposedly last had the tape, I came upon it. It was all for the better, as last night (5/2)'s episode, was, I thought, a better demonstration for foreign eyes of what the show is capable of. A nice, balanced breakdown of the President's speech, and a memorable take on Laura's off-color horse joke.

Over pre-dinner cocktails and a massive, Americans-are-pigs-stereotype-confirming, Super Size-me-esque mound of fried finger-foods (the "small" plate, no less!) at nearby Bar Nine, the Norwegians confessed that our Laura bit -- in which our production coordinator Gina Brown, doing a breathtaking impression, has the First Lady extend the president-accidentally-"milked"-a-male-horse joke into double-equine-fellation-semen-ablution territory -- struck even them as going too far, and their culture is relatively less Puritanical. They expressed shock when, while relating what I'd been working on that day, I mentioned the new Clearplay filter, just approved by Congress, a device that parents attach to their DVDs, to automatically skip past the objectionable parts.

I tried to defend this as at least being an individual-choice-driven solution, but they couldn't get past the "censorship" part. You'd think that, living next to Sweden, they'd be in favor of anything that occasionally lets you fast-forward through a periodically unwatchable film.

What shocked them about our piece, though, was not the sexual content, but the ad hominem attack on a political figure. They told me that a recent Prime Minister, also a priest, had had a breakdown and been lampooned as such in the media. But he specifically called for them to stop such depicitions, claiming it went too far. But Norwegian outlets continued on doing it, they told me.

On our way to the bar, we'd run into Ben Karlin, our Executive Producer. He looked appropriately befuddled when I explained who the group was. He recounted a time when he and Jon had done a press junket in Norway, but gotten no laughs. I assured him that they laughed plenty at the taped episode I'd shown them - later on, Sindra, Charles' cousin, told me that the voice of the show seemed amenable to Europeans, that he appreciated its "bite." Naturally, the joke that I'd contributed - how, unlike Sinatra, Cheney ate scrambled *eggbeaters* off a hooker's chest - had no bite and was veiled in a reference they didn't get it. Even 2.5 years in here, I still ultimately brought a Dennis Miller Live picture jibe (Cheney heart joke).

One of the fellows, Nico, a curly-locked, earring-studded, usually smoking director-producer of variety/music shows, told me how he ended up where he is now. After college, he said, Norwegians are required to join the military or - as he put it it with a smirk - "ask not to." However to opt out, you have to state a profession, then take an entry-level position in it. So he chose television. TV or the Army - talk about your Hobson's Choice.

NY Encounters: Do As I Say, Not As I Diet

2005-02-21T20:07:00.000-08:00

Sheryl and I were waiting in line at our local Rite Aid, debating the question of why Chinese food makes you hungry later. Sheryl said because it's salty, creating thirst, which can be mistaken for hunger. I was skeptical of this, but just then the woman in front of us in line chimed in, "She's right. I learned all about this in Weight Watchers." In classic New Yorker Unsolicited Advice fashion (a la at the Mediterranean restaurant, the strangers dining next to Sheryl and me and Robin and Scott who leaned over and started giving Scott furniture advice), she starts rambling on about this. But just then, a cashier was open, so the woman went over to her and paid -- for her three Rolos and seven Hershey's bars.

NY Encounters: Making Samaritans Bad

2005-02-21T19:38:00.000-08:00

Sheryl and I were walking on W. 66th, and just about to turn onto West End, when we saw a small, somewhat frail, older woman (late 70s), laden with grocery bags, fall in the slushy post-snow conditions... in the middle of W. 66th. We helped her to her feet, and she said she was unhurt. Still, she seemed a bit shaken, so we took her bags, each offered her an arm, and walked her home. The woman - whose name we learned was Dell - remarked that it was sad how she fell in the snow, considering that she used to be a skiier. She said she still had her skis, and was considering trying them once more. Sheryl and I encouraged her to go for it, no doubt thinking, "Good for her - at her age, trying to stay active..."

We walked along Freedom Place, which Dell informed us, was named for Goodman, of Cheney, Schwerner, and Goodman (killed in Mississippi during Freedom Summer, the subject of "Mississippi Burning") but Trump Place had not put up the memorial plaque for him they'd promised. She said she might have a word with them about this, which I (somewhat condescendingly) thought kind of an amusing image. But as we approached her home, it became clear she actually lives at Trump Place, as part of the 20% of low-income apartments the building was required to provide.

We left Dell inside an entrance and were about to depart when she reached into her pocketbook, saying she wanted to give us something. Expecting money and an awkward moment of refusal, we were pretty surprised when she instead said, "I co-own a store that sells..." Flowers? Fabrics? Objets d'art? "...sexuality products for couples." She produced from her bag a business card, reading, "Eve's Garden - We grow pleasurable things for women." (www.evesgarden.com)

When they say no good deed goes unpunished, I didn't realize they meant with a freshly purchased leather whip.

What is Pastafazoola?

2004-12-22T16:34:00.000-08:00

My dearly departed grandfather Albert Miller - the inspiration for my humor and this blog - and I used to say a lot of silly catch-phrases to each other, from my boyhood right through his passing just over a month ago. One of our favorite standbys was "Pastafazoola!" - Grandpa's silly-ization of the Italian beans-and-pasta soup "Pasta i fagioli." Why he liked saying this (he was Jewish, not Italian), and in this particular fashion, must remain a mystery for all time. However, I am open to any and all theories. So get on it, people!

Election Day Ticker

2004-11-02T14:16:00.000-08:00

6:21 am - Awakened by a shout outside my window: "I feel really lucky to be able to vote in this election!"

10:16 am - On my way to work, there's a line down the block at the school/polling place across the street from me, next to the very dangerous 96th/West End entrance to the West Side Highway. So a number of people may well get the chance to vote *and* die.

10:20 am - Hart's Location, the small New Hampshire town that acts, every four years, as an Election Day bellwether, voted last night after midnight (one of their quirky traditions) for Bush AND Kerry: 15 votes for each -- and one for Nader! Right down the middle even there, despite three recent campaign visits by each candidate to the town's swing vote, aka "Jed."

11:47 am - Appeals Court rules to allow Ohio Republicans to send challengers to the polls. They can question the eligibility of any newly registered voter by asking for proof of citizenship, age, and residency. Sure it sounds a little harsh, but on the other hand, for many elderly voters, it's nice to have a well-dressed young man taking the time to chat.

2:05 pm - (from The New Republic's election day blog) "First dirty trick of the day up here: The New Hampshire Democratic Party says somebody is making bogus phone calls that advise voters to sit out the election because Kerry is already so far ahead. According to a transcript of the call provided by the Dems: 'So, if you're going down to vote you don't have to bother, because he's doing so well that we feel that there are enough people that have already voted in the state of New Hampshire.'" Right. Presumably, the call is from the Democratic Party's last-minute "Keep in the Vote" drive.

2:58 pm - cited by Andrew Sullivan from National Review's blog:
"Do not, again, do not take any exit poll resports too seriously. JUST GET OUT THE VOTE. Exit polls not always reliable, ESPECIALLY early ones. AND, this isn't over until the polls close. So please get to work while there is still time. DO NOT get depressed. DO NOT get mad. JUST GET OUT THE VOTE." Big government, no. Big letters, why not?

3:18 pm -- Ooh, it's near official! The Guam Pacific Daily News is reporting that the island-based U.S. territory has gone for Bush nearly 2 to 1. This of course raises all kinds of questions, chief among them, "Guam can vote?"

4:43 pm -- Record-setting 70% turnout in Louisville, Kentucky, despite rainstorms since 6am this morning. Then again, if there's any town that loves a good horserace...

5:52 pm -- What's striking to me is the conspicuous, 100% deliberate media silence on how the race itself is trending so far. Obviously it's way too early to make any kind of statements, but that usually doesn't bother the rapacious 24/7 news beast. However, fear of getting it wrong makes the Beast in this case charmingly coquettish.

9:38 pm -- It's 9:30, earlier exit polling seemed to favor Kerry, but now Bush's numbers are doing better in two of the three key states (OH, FL). But really, way too close to call. OK, this is officially the lamest election day blog ever.

Halloween in the Big, Razor-Free Apple

2004-10-31T19:30:00.000-08:00

Observation on October 31, 2004 on Halloween in New York:
-The crowds full of normal people intermixed with a few costumed people calls attention to the costumes New Yorkers wear every day: Hipster, ho, Hasid, high-stakes money manager, everyone's got a look tonight just as every night.
-Down in the Village, Halloween night is Halloween. Up in the Upper West Side (ie: The Toddler District), it's repurposed for greater convenience: Yesterday, Sheryl and I saw a Hispanic nanny leading a little Batman and a little Bob the Builder out for a more time-efficient Saturday October 30th afternoon trick-or-treat.
-And, earlier in the day, at the 100th St. school fundraiser street fair, where the costumes were already being put to good use, I witnessed an all-politics-is-really-local moment, when I was waiting to buy some mac-and-cheese with my four ($10 for 1o) tickets. A gray-bearded man in a Montessori T-shirt chided the food vendors for charging way-over-market prices for these cheap foods. They kind of sputtered, completely not expecting this, until I went to place my order. Suddenly, despite my silence, I was a part of the dispute. One of the women pointed to me and said, "See? He doesn't think it's too much." I continued to hold my tongue, but she then correctly identified my motivation, "because it's for a good cause." To which he replied, "No it isn't - because that school doesn't involve the parents." They replied, "We are the parents." After he walked off, one of them said he was hired by the city to challenge such activities as theirs. I couldn't quite figure out: was it because parental fundraising makes the city look bad, or was it a teachers'-union-versus-parents power struggle? All I know is, I enjoyed the mac-and-cheese and thought I really got my four tickets' worth.
-My favorite costumes spotted:
*A full-body, headpiece-included, plush "Red Hook" bottle
*A girl in a white robe and a helmet that was either a papal mitre or a Power Rangers helmet. ("I smite thee in nomine patria, Rita Repulsa!")
*a sleek-black-coolie-hatted "The Good Earth"-era-ninja, and his belly dancer girlfriend
*a guy in an Andy Warhol wig waiting impatiently outside a liquor store to see if it would open, stalking off when it didn't (in the future, we will all manage to stay off the wagon for 15 minutes.)
-A variety of headgear-only, otherwise too-cool-for-costume New Yorkers, but with headgear that's perfectly outrageous: rainbow wigs, huge outsized hats (in one case, a couple with pink-and-blue his-and-hers plush derbies), massive afros (one on a scowling guy, his scalp-based whimsy clearly not trickling down). This year's hot head item: electric flashing devil horns.
-In front of "Krust," a Caribbean fast food place, an orange-wigged woman portraying a Western-type witch to entice passersby in. Ironically, an authentic Caribbean witch costume might have proven more of a lure.
-Also amusing: My taxi driver (taking me home from just seeing the coincidentally zombie-themed "Shaun of the Dead") is unusually pissed at the traffic backup due to the imminent Greenwich Village Halloween Parade, grumbling, "I fucking hate this shit." At first I think, "That's not in the holiday spirit." But then I think more of what the holiday represents, and I realize, "Yeah, I guess it is."
-But the evening's biggest irony: I was unable to go to the Greenwich Village Halloween Parade -- where Sheryl and I started dating -- because Sheryl felt it was unsafe, in New York in this pre-Election Day weekend, for me to be at such a large public event. Actual fear was hindering participation in our culture's elaborate pageant of fear.

Brazil Naughts

2004-10-20T17:13:00.000-07:00

On a whim, Sheryl and I went to see Caetano Veloso -- the "Paul Simon of Brazil" -- at the historic Beacon Theater Wednesday night. Even though we bought tickets 45 minutes prior, with the cashier telling us, "There'll still be some left" when we said we needed to go to an ATM for cash -- there were still at least four scalpers outside. After a full half-hour delay for seating people, and some proactive audience applause to urge the show on, Veloso came out and introduced each of his touring group by name, and then "these New York musicians," at which point a black-clad mini-orchestra stood up, with no further identification than that. Veloso did an accentually idiosyncratic, mellow-guitar-inflected version of an American standard. Then another. Then another. Turns out he was doing many of the cuts off his new album of American standards, "Foreign Sound." Among his interpretations was a compelling "I'll Take Manhattan" -- complete with a jokey ad-lib of "perfect for a Jew and goy" which was no doubt hilarious to the largely Brazilio-American crowd -- a much happier-than-the-original cover of Nirvana's "Come As You Are, and a rap, during which this silver-haired, black sweatered gentleman in his 60s sat down on his stool, put on his reading glasses, and read the rap off a lyrics sheet, occasionally stopping to make "pistol" signs with his hands. Basically, Veloso could do whatever crazy physical business occurred to him, and be guaranteed a huge crowd reaction, as witnessed when he did a 20-second, lethargic, non-travelling "Moonwalk" at the edge of the stage. And this dynamism even worked against him, as when he seemed to be trying to signal us to sing along during the "Memor-y-a" chorus of "CAYA", but might have just been making big hand scoops in the air -- wasn't clear. The sequence after "ITM" was nice, because he then read from his book a passage about Manhattan, then played one of his own, Brazilian songs about it. But for the most part, he played sadistically none of the songs that had made him legendary enough to bring all these compatriates (and at least 2 distinctly gringo Jews) out to hear him. At the end, he came out for his encore and mentioned the names of these songs -- so he couldn't well plead that he'd simply forgotten them -- but then launched into just one of the lesser ones.

The Birds & the Bees & the Loofas & Falafels

2004-10-16T13:20:00.000-07:00

Actual quotes from the "Sex" chapter of Bill O'Reilly's new advice book, "The O'Reilly Factor for Kids":

"Thanks to some of the loonier films and magazines today, many of you know a lot about unusual sexual practices." (p. 72)

"No matter how much you know about bodies, positions, practices, and preferences, you are nowhere near having the combination of maturity and insight that meaningful sex requires."
(p. 73)

"Your shoulders are getting broader, your breasts are becoming more prominent..." (p. 73)

"When you are interested in someone only on the basis of physique, you are dehumanizing him or her, seeing that person only as an attractive object." (p.74)

"By the way, the person you have sex with IS likely to tell. Think about that before you do anything." (p.74)

"Guys, if you exploit a girl, it will come back to get you." (p.75)

"Are you surprised by my thoughts on the subject? Did you think that O'Reilly would tell you sex is off-limits? As you know, things are more complicated than that." (p.75)

NY Encounters: Where Hollywood Buys Its Mentos

2004-10-12T00:51:00.000-07:00

Sheryl and I were out walking on Broadway this afternoon, and we stopped at a news-bodega at 95th Street to buy the Rolling Stone with Jon Stewart on the cover. Feeling exuberant, Sheryl pointed to the cover and me and told the vendor, "That's his boss!" The vendor replied, "Want to see a picture of me? It is not what you would expect." Frankly, we weren't expecting to be asked in the first place, but we consented. The man - whose name we would soon learn was Zahir -- produced a photo album, the first page of which showed a younger, barechested Zahir. I didn't know if I liked where this photographic exchange was going, but Sheryl quickly (and correctly) guessed that he used to be a body-builder. Then Zahir posed a challenge: "I have met a famous person. Can you guess who?" Despite this painfully obvious clue, we were unable to guess. Sheryl said, "John Kerry?" Zahir said no. I said, "George Bush?" Zahir made a face like he just ingested a rancid lemon. Finally, Zahir showed us his collection of him and various celebrities, taken at his old news shop at Columbus and 86th: Zahir and Paul Newman, Zahir Zahir and comedienne Wendy Liebman, Zahir and a local NY TV news anchor neither of us recognized but both nodded as if we did, Zahir with someone we didn't recognize at all but nodded even less convincingly at. Then, breathless with excitement, he recounted the celebs who'd come in his shop but he lacked photo evidence of: Alec Baldwin & Kim Basinger, Kevin Bacon, and either Kevin Kline or Costner -- it was never made clear. All I can say is, if Zahir keeps accumulating A-list cred like this, there may come a day when a musclebound bouncer (a proto-Zahir, if you will) stands by the bodega, refusing to let you buy your TimeOut "Cheap Eats" issue if you're "not on the list."