Rules about Phil. One drink is enough.
- Phil: I have an idea.
- Me: yes?
- Phil: I want you to be a painter for the month of December. I'll pay for it.
- Me: Yeah? Why?
- Phil: Because I had a martini and Im feeling pretty good, and you should listen to me now before I have my second ... when bullshit comes.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
grace-notes:rentedsurroundings:heymikewaskom:
Cyndi Lauper - Time After Time
I keep on blogging photographs of beautiful women, quotes by beautiful writers and talent of beautiful friends. And of my own work. But here’s truly a beautiful women, a beautiful friend and a beautiful speaker of beautiful words. I wish you all could meet her. She’s one of those women you just want to spread her around….so everyone can have a moment with her.
“In a conventional tragedy, you’d be my hero” mother (Silai)
Until about the middle of the last century, most of the turkeys eaten on Thanksgiving would have been what we now call “heritage breeds,” including the Standard Bronze, Bourbon Red, White Holland, Naragansett, and Jersey Buff varieties. These turkeys are gorgeous, hardy creatures, developed in Europe and America over hundreds of years and rich in flavor. Though they are the ancestors to the Broad-Breasted White, a sort of made-up breed that arose in the 1960s with the advent of industrial turkey farms (the Broad-Breasted Bronze was mostly abandoned because its dark pinfeathers put off consumers), they bear little resemblance to that now ubiquitous bird in taste or texture.
Today more than 99 percent of turkeys sold in America come from the roughly 270 million raised on factory farms each year. These birds are bred to be so literally broad-breasted that by the time they are 8 weeks old, they are too fat to walk, much less procreate—every Broad-Breasted White on the market is the product of artificial insemination. They are kept in giant barns, given antibiotics to prevent disease, and fed constantly so that they reach maturity in almost half the time it takes a heritage turkey. The result is bland, mushy meat that we have come to equate with tenderness, but in reality processors inject the dressed birds with saline solutions and vegetable oils to improve “mouth feel” and keep the oversize breasts from drying out.
Julia Reed’s history of the Thanksgiving turkey is like a fine meal.
(via newsweek) (via fairphantom)
I really, really want this camera. But I also know it’s practically impossible…so let’s just admire its beauty here. A minute of silence.
(via baubauhaus)
there is something about everyone taking their shoes off and standing all together in stocking feet at airport security that seems to level the playing field and place us all in the same vulnerable state. no matter who you are, where you come from, how much money you do or don’t have, famous or not, we’re all sliding our feet out of our shoes and standing somewhat uncomfortably on cold, tacky floor together.
Music Monday - Gretel at Toad, Cambridge, MA.
Reva and the wonderful Gretel (featuring Phil, Mel, and in the darkened corner). Another one of those bars that is so crowded, part of the band plays in the audience. Notice Alec Spiegelman of Brothers Bloom clarineting hoe-downerry guesting in the other corner.
In this case, I think the iPhone camera does the feeling of being there perfect justice. It’s that loud and that crowded and that folking awesome.
