I drop the wrench with a clang, wipe the sweat from my brow and take a long pull from my can of beer. American beer. I glance over and wink at my girl, who’s polishing her nails and smoking a cigarette, while chewing extravagantly on a wad of gum. Producing an impressive pink bubble, she looks appreciatively at my grease stained muscles as I casually crush the beer can against my forehead...
This post first appeared on the short-lived "A Hare After Midnight" I’m not a weirdo. Honest I’m not. But we all have those moments of weakness, don’t we? It’s late, you’re tired and hungry, sitting in the dark, scouring the internet for some kind of solace, when you see an ad. Normally you’d give … Continue reading Discovering Wild Food– Lights Out, Blinds Drawn
As a young man I scoffed at the concept of a soul. I was a cold hearted nihilist on a mission of self destruction. It was tremendous fun. On reflection, however, it occurs to me that my soul might have taken a look at my life choices and buggered off to the Bahamas for a few years. Judging by recent dreams, I have a suspicion it inhabited the body of a handsome young bartender who got all the girls thanks to the sweet yet heartbreaking poetry he could spout on request. That was MY action!
At some point every day I find myself gazing out my bathroom window at what could charitably be called my courtyard: a patchwork of broken pavers obscured by discarded building materials, surrounded by 6-foot cinderblock walls, and one sagging chain-link fence. It’s not a particularly inspiring vista... If this imprisonment continues much further, I see this story ending with either me or my neighbor Eddie going the other with a shiv...
Be yourself. That’s what they always say, isn’t it. With seemingly endless alone time, and no imagined judgement from onlookers, I’m being myself to an alarming degree. All those annoying habits that I would curb while in polite company are getting free rein. I refuse to cook pasta without making my “Bucatini and the MGs” … Continue reading Be Yourself (quick, while no one’s watching!)
I was doing so well. A news-free world. I was oblivious to all but what was happening right in front of me. The childish bellowing of politicians, talking heads, and celebrities which make us all dumber and angrier had been silenced. Instead of opening my news apps first thing in the afternoon, I was scrolling … Continue reading Hysteria, Pandemonium, and a Cast-Iron Solution
It’s about 30 minutes before showtime at An Unnamed Jazz Club in Jakarta, Indonesia. I’m sitting in the green room, but I can hear the pleasant buzz of a jazz club rolling into action. Customers chatter as they’re led to their tables, waiters deliver drinks, bartenders mix cocktails and ignore thirsty musicians, the PA plays … Continue reading Stadium Rock, Topless Women, and Some Potty Talk: 3 Days in Jakarta
There’s something very satisfying abut Italian swearing. It’s all so percussive and hissing; all those “k” and “ts” sounds. Fluency in obscenities is a skill I respect greatly, and the Italians have it down to an art: the drawn-out vowel sounds, the spitting consonants, combined with flaming eyes and wildly disproportionate gesticulations. It was a … Continue reading Coarse Language, Adult Themes, and some Boning
One of my idle fantasies, when I’m not plotting world domination (any day now), or fuming about technology and young people (every day now), is opening a bar. Not because I have any great desire to be a small business owner, but because the kind of place in which I like to hang out just … Continue reading Bars: Italians do it Better
If you ever get the opportunity to shuck your own oysters, and you don’t take it, your poor beleaguered soul may never forgive you (if you don’t have a poor beleaguered soul, you can skip to the next paragraph). Especially if those oysters have just been hauled from the very bay beside which you’re sitting, … Continue reading Good Shucking Times on Shelter Island