SCHWA DRAMA

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Last night I went to Schwa. If you dont know about this place, it falls in the same camp as Alinea, but its a more punk rock underground version of such, decore is raw and gritty and not much time and energy was wasted on the rooms looks. I dig this, I dont need to be floated on and interior decorated cloud of luxury.

I couldn't help but watch the human behavior and interaction between clientele and staff in this evenings celebrations. heres what I saw:

waitstaff - aloof greasy haired dudes that give off the air of "I dont give a fuck about what you think", this immediately reminded me of high school days when my brother took me to these weird punk rock parties in someones basement and people milled about acting cool and shaving each others heads and getting high. This aloof attitude triggers something in the customer, which is a desperate plea, "please like me, Ill start saying fucked up things to seem cool and get your attention".

The food comes, interesting stuff, interesting ingredients. I get thrown a bit by the aloof naming of the dish example "pork belly infused with .... you put it in your face, whatever"

Theres a window to the back and you see the dudes back there drinking shots, walking quickly with a look of fear and utter exhaustion in their eyes and a thin glaze of nervous sweat coating their pale grey faces. this is fascinating to me.

Halfway through the dinner is when twists and turns became more dramatic, more and more sexual innuendoes are dropped, etc etc. Throughout the whole night, hiphop music and heavy metal is being played and it seemed to me as if someone in the kitchen needed a jolt of some kind of energy to continue. The volume was cranked to maximum with a lovely death metal tune with the lyrics chanting "KILL YOUR MOTHER" repeatedly for what seemed to be an eternity as I am enjoying my porkbelly with butterscotch, persimmons, and radichio. Sure, whatever, why not, I guess, really?

I understand the sentiment of the restaurant, "we are anarchists and dont want to succumb ourselves to the fine dining etiquette, and we just wanna make delicious food and we wanna do it our way, fuck the man!!" I get it, meh.

SUNDAY PONTIFFICATIONS

The phrase "in the highly unlikely event" came up in my mind today and I started to think, hey, everything is a highly unlikely event, is it not? the fact that the human race exists was highly unlikely event. I believe that that phrase is bullshit. its a lie used to make people feel better that bad shit wont happen to them, a lie to make us feel better that all will be roses. If you watch the news, highly unlikely events are happening minute by minute.

I know that most of my life has turned out to be a tremendous series of highly unlikely events. Some were good, some miraculous, some bad, but all would have been predicted as highly unlikely events. I know people who have lost loved ones, who have achieved greatness, who have battled internal struggles who have lost, and some who have won, some who have risen beyond ever imagined, all unlikely events.

It is almost a comfort to know that it is likely that unlikely events are and will continue to happen, and also, it is these highly likely unlikely events that teach us the most.

BRING IT!

AND JUSTICE FOR ALL

In all my years in living in the city, to be exact, since 1992, I have NEVER, used a lawn chair or crate to reserve my parking spot in the city sludges and snow drifts. This last snow explosion in Chicago was the first time ever I deigned to toss a lawn chair to reserve my spot which was shoveled out by myself and generous neighbors. I must say though, i have also NEVER taken anyones spot that was reserved.

All was fine and dandy until a few nights ago, I got home and a Honda was sitting in my dug out spot. I had a little puff of anger, but let it be. I parked in an illegal spot hoping not to get towed and just crossed my fingers. The following morning, the guilty party had left for their daily duties, but forgot to reserve the spot, leaving it open to any other parking vultures circling the block. I replaced the chair to make sure I had my spot back at the end of the day.

That night, Honda was back, in my spot again with chair once again removed and set aside.

I originally thought a little note would do the trick to let this lazy bum know what was up, but alas, a more brilliant idea came to be.

My mission was to clear a new parking spot for myself, to make a very clear and succinct point, and lastly, to get a bit of exercise. I think it worked.

Within two hours I built an igloo over Honda. Its not a very sculptural one, but a more abstract deconstructed version. I am pretty darn proud of my work as my car sits nearby in its freshly cleared spot with a view of the transplanted snow piled high on Honda.

In this photo there is one element missing. At the end of my work, I thoughtfully placed the chair on top of the heaped car to "reserve" the spot. The following morning, I watched the blonde culprit sit in her car like a lump, she stayed in her car for a while as I circled the block walking the dog, and returned to see her take the lawn chair and trudge her ass back home stealing the lawn chair as a trophy of defeat.

FASHION ASSYLUM

Check out the creepy editorial fashion shoot that the ladies at TWENTYTHIRTYFORTY.NET collaborated on. Hair and Makeup done by the ever so wonderful Sharon Casey

THE OTHER MAN

Maybe this is the better man?? In response to the comment about my only using Viva, that is correct. Its the only paper towel that behaves like a paper towel.