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Old Friends

14 Nov

It was really good to see my former college roommate Seth on Saturday. He was in town for a conference, and we met up for dinner Saturday night. Over some BBQ at the Village Smokehouse — yum — we made up for lost time, since we’d only been in touch intermittently over the last nine years. It’s always great to hang out with old friends and have it be like not a day has gone by. It felt that way with Seth, laughing about people we used to know, reminiscing about psycho ex-girlfriends (actually, just mine), good times, and catching up on our lives now. We’ve both changed a lot since graduation, but in some key ways, we’re both exactly the same. And that’s a real comfort to know. I hope we’ll stay in better touch from now on.

TGIF

11 Nov

Some miscellaneous things that are on my mind today:

Sorry, neighbors: I hit snooze for a solid hour and a half this morning. That, after waking up in the middle of the night and sleeping on my couch for what must have been four hours. When the radio went off at 6:15, blaring from my bedroom, I darted off the couch, ran to go shut it off … and then proceeded to fall right back asleep.

Bagel basics: I’ve long thought that only Jewish people should work at bagel places. Before anyone gets all uppity that this is some sort of racist, reverse anti-Semitism thing, hear me out: When was the last time you had a good sandwich at Finagle-a-Bagel? Really. A good, well-made sandwich, where the ingredients weren’t just slapped together (in excess) and the bagel wasn’t burnt, etc. Too often, I feel like bagel sandwiches — whether they’re with cream cheese or turkey or whatever — are put through like some disorganized assembly line and made without much care for their quality. I take my bagels seriously (despite the fact that I still go to Bruegger’s regularly). Jewish people know from bagels. If Jews were making the bagel sandwiches at Finagle, they wouldn’t screw them up. Go to any bagel place in Florida. You’ll see.

This could have been worse: Nicole Richie was on the Today show this morning. At the risk of sounding like an old man triple my age, what a well-spoken young lady she was. Who knew?! Apparently she has a book out that’s “a novel a novel a novel a novel a novel a novel” — it’s repeated six times on the cover to underline and highlight the fact that even though characters closely resemble former aquaintances (i.e.: Paris Hilton), the book is not based in reality. Whatever. I’m still not going to read it.

T things: So if the T isn’t crowded and I’ve got plenty of space in the back of the train to stand, why must people come all the way back and crowd me? There’s plenty of room for them elsewhere. And in related musings, is anyone who rides the B Line happy? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone on that line smile. On the C Line, people are talking to each other, laughing — I mean, it’s not the love train by any means, but at least the general mood of the riders is happier.

Happy day: Today is Veterans Day. So who has it off? Only the post office, it seems. And also in related musings, I was in Shaw’s last night and saw “Happy Veterans Day” cakes. Do you really wish people “Happy Veterans Day?”

Bad TV: I’d care more that it’s Sam who dies on Reunion if only I liked any of the characters on that show. It’s a good premise, but not one of the six characters is compelling enough to make the show watchable. Basically, the only reason I do watch is because it supposedly takes place in Bedford, NY, which is where I grew up. Supposedly. That’s not the Bedford I know. The characters would have gone to Fox Lane High School (not Bedford High) and the hospital would have been Northern Westchester Hospital (not University Hospital). Just fyi, in case you’re curious.

Behave or be gone: I really liked this story from Wednesday’s New York Times. I think Dan McCauley, owner of a coffee shop in Chicago, has the right idea. “Part of parenting skills is teaching kids they behave differently in a restaurant than they do on the playground,” he says. It’s easy for me to say since I don’t have kids, right? But the same goes for movie theaters. Bad thing is, of course, it’s not just children: too many adults treat the movie theater like it’s their living room. It’s my biggest pet peeve — after people who don’t know the correct way to ride an escalator, of course. (If you’re going to stand, stay to the right and let the rest of us pass.)

Summertime: Got an advance copy of UB40‘s new CD, Who You Fighting For?, in the mail today (it’s out January 24). Yes, those guys are still around, and with this album, they’ve got a return to form. (And I’m not just saying that because the British Mojo Magazine said it first.) I have the CD on while I’m working and it’s making me forget that it’s, like, 40 degrees out and that I dug my cold weather coat out this morning. At least mentally, summer’s already here.

No day but Tuesday: Got my invite yesterday to see an advance screening of Rent next week. Can’t wait. Especially now since Jeff Wells has posted such a huge rave about the film on his site, “Hollywood Elsewhere.” Jeff calls himself a “not-very-hip type,” something I can identify with if I know what he means, and he, like me, saw the show in 1996 when the original cast was still in it (I also saw the original cast in London, if you’re interested). I’ve been listening to the movie soundtrack for a couple of months now and like it. I’ve also seen clips, but they cause me to be a bit reserved in my enthusiasm. Jeff Wells gives me hope today. Look for my review of the film mid next week.

A Whole New World (for me, at least)

8 Nov

Spent a bit of time in the South End on Saturday with Pyles, Farrah, and Barry. It’s a funny thing: the South End is one part of town I just don’t really ever spend any time in. Not sure why. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I was there. Thankfully, we picked a great day weather-wise to take it in. And it was cool because I finally went to places that had been recommended to me for a while.

For example, our first stop was brunch at Metropolis Café. In a word: Yum. Good pancakes and eggs. Of course, I was really torn betwen that (aka: the Metropolis Breakfast) and the cinnamon brioche french toast, so I’ll definitely have to go back soon to try the other dish. Now granted, no other brunch place could ever compare to Johnny’s Luncheonette in Newton Center (I take my brunch seriously — more on that in another posting eventually), but it’s nice to have other good places to go.

Then we quenched our sweet tooths with a walk over to Flour, one of those much heralded bakeries that I’ve wanted to go to for, like, ever. I’m not going to say the homemade Oreo was orgasmic or even worth the wait (I think that’s because I was expecting something more along the lines of a Whoopie Pie), but it was real good — and gone in seconds. Ever the indecisive person, I was torn between that and the mini chocolate cakes, which also looked tasty. I’m going to have to go back there too. (Sense a pattern?)

On our way up Rutland Street, we all got a big laugh from a poem posted on some of the telephone poles that went something like this:

Roses are red
Violets are blue
No one wants to see all this poo!

Clean up after your dog
As you ought to do
And I’ll remove these poems from view.
— the poet from Haven Street

It reminded me that unlike some other parts of town, the South End is a real neighborhood. There’s a community feel to the area, no doubt due partly to the small gardens and communal gathering areas (and on other streets, the rainbow flags). I don’t think you could get away with posting that sign on multiple poles on my street — much less one pole.

I know the contents of this entry must not be news to most folks, but for me it sort of was. I’ve often been accused of spending too much time in my Green Line-centered world. I mean, I’m not the world’s biggest Cambridge or Somerville fan (thus, why I didn’t write up my afternoon spent in Central Square last weekend), but the South End is somewhere I could learn to enjoy. There are just too many good restaurants and too much nice architecture to overlook it in my wanderings around the city. And I know I just skimmed the surface on Saturday. So I hope to get back over there to explore the area some more (and try out the french toast and chocolate cake) real soon.

Penny for My Thoughts?

26 Oct

What’s with businesses that are sticklers for an extra penny? I was in the Pru on Friday night, and as usual, I decided to grab some dinner from Poulet Rotisserie Chicken because I always figure that of all the options in the food court, this will be the healthiest. (Or, more accurately, it’s just good food.)

I got what I usually do: the combo platter (i.e.: a main dish and two sides — on Friday, that meant basic chicken tenders, mac’n’cheese and steamed vegetables) and a drink. As always, the bill came to $9.01. Now, aside from how wrong it is to pay so much for fast (albeit good) food, the place demands that you pay exactly $9.01. There have been times that I’ve been to Poulet and have paid with a $10 bill and have received 99 cents back as change. And when I’ve tried to pay just $9 (because I either had no change on me or just had, like, a quarter), I’ve been asked for the penny as if I was robbing them blind. There’s no “Have a Penny, Leave a Penny” dish, and after all this time, the place still hasn’t adjusted their prices so people’s bills are exactly $9, or so they’re at least closer to the other side of $9 (i.e.: $8.90-something).

Yes, I’m a sucker for always going back there even though this really annoys me, and I was just lucky I had a penny on me Friday night. But really, what’s with them making me (and everyone else) pay exactly $9.01? Why can’t they just let us pay $9 and be done with it?

Adventures in Shopping

11 Sep

Few things are as embarrassing as … selecting a cucumber on a crowded Sunday at Shaw’s. (Actually, no matter when you try to select a cucumber, it’s embarrassing.)

Few things are as annoying as … going through the due diligence of selecting a good piece of cake for dessert (i.e.: biggest one they’ve got, plenty of icing, nothing stuck to the sides of the container — hold your comments, please) and having the cashier tip it upside down to scan the bar code, in the process getting icing on the top of the container, even if it’s just a little bit.
Second place: the fact that the shortest line is always the slowest.

But, having all the students back in town does make grocery shopping a more pleasant experience. At least aesthetically.

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