Converging factors have created a wave in my life, a tidal beast powered by the full moon and the late August sun gravitational fields. The ‘main man’ shucker (who was recently hospitalized for shucking his hand) will be going on a canoe trip this week. Filling in his empty shifts will be Yours-Truly-in-Many-Shucking-Gloves (thats my Native American name). Also, I am stepping out from behind the trainee curtain to assume the sole responsibility of being host to the East Coast Grill on three nights this week. Add to that the massive trans-New England tourist current brought about by Restaurant Week, and I’ll be working 40 hours at my day job alone. This will be the most hour/labor intensive week of my life, the whole twenty two years of it.
But worry not, for I have been training hard.. My regimen has included a full dinner of meat for the past 3 nights. Friday I had a full three quarter inch slice of prime rib. Saturday I had a rack of Texas-style BBQ ribs, and a small slice of brisket. This afternoon I had a steak super burrito. My intestines are meatier than John Waynes were when they found him dead with four pounds of undigested meat in his intestines, which is just as they should be to buoy me and to withstand the torrential vibrations of swimming through the perfect storm. George Clooney didn’t quite make it, but looks can’t help ya when its only you in the middle of the ocean, and the waves start hitting. Thats when guts factor in, heavily. Please don’t tell any sharks how much pork and beef I’ve consumed thats lying undigested in the bowels of my intestines.
To further address those who have been commenting on the Hampton Beach story (scandal-mongers & sandal-mongers), I will quote a line from Steely Dan’s hit, “Reelin’ in the Years” which I performed at karaoke night (7 nights a week) at Stacey Jane’s: “You wouldn’t even know a diamond if you held it in your hands… the things you think are precious I can’t understand.” Last weekend was a blast, and if the pictures show me and my adult friends grilling in the rain, thats because we grilled in the rain! If the pictures show Rick and his friend from childhood Diane sharing a bed, thats because they had to share a bed because I fell asleep in the other bed and refused to be moved! I don’t understand why anyone found the pictures & story of a us having fun to be offensive. It was a lot like the Big Chill without the dramatic suicide. Fantastic music on Coco’s Ipod, great food thanks to the efforts of Rick at the grill, the beach…
Speaking of the Big Chill, I watched it for the first time in my twenty two years on Friday night at my aunt’s house, on cable on demand for free. It is the best movie I have seen all summer, and is now in my top ten list of best movies ever. Jeff Goldblum is a trip as a People magazine “journalist”… but the whole cast just gels and the music is fabulous and the story is sincere, focused yet subtle in areas: wonderful. I heard that the suicidee that sparks the films plot is played by Kevin Costner (the characters name is Alex). In the beginning of the movie the shots of the leg with the sock being pulled up and the trousers coming down, and the tuxedo shirt being buttoned are all that was left of Costner in the Big Chill after the cutting room. Evidently he was supposed to be featured in flashbacks in the original screenplay. It was definitely a good idea to cut him out completely, because that character can then only be imagined in the audience’ mind, and using imagination is good… even in movies. If it had been up to me I’d have cut Kevin Costner out of Waterworld, too, except that no one else on the planet has evolved gills to breathe underwater, which would have made it that much more difficult to follow the map on the child to Neo-Pangea… okay, fish-Costner was crucial.
I just purchased the soundtrack from the Fabulous Baker Brothers and the album “The Sign” by Ace of Base on cassette tape, for less than two dollars, and I feel like the gub’ment when they got that great deal on Louisiana. Those tapes are an important part of my readiness regimen for this week of work. Its about 5PM now and I have a few more scraps of pigs feet to nibble on before I throw my mind and body into motion… but I will leave my space here with a final thought:
While researching the Scrittori Manuscript (written during blackout intoxication by my roommate) and its background (which because of the blackout he cannot recall), I stumbled across a message board discussing an individuals’ intent to convert to Judaism. The thread goes: “I don’t know if I will convert, but there’s a decent probability.” “It’s not very easy to convert they’re not really looking for new members” “I AM OPTIMUS PRIME, LEADER OF THE AUTOBOTS AND DEFENDER OF AUTOBOT CITY.. WE AS THE TRANSFORMERS MUST DEFEND AUTOBOT CITY FROM THE REBEL PESKY FORCES OF THE DECEPTICONS, SOON IN TIME YOU WILL SEE ME AT A LOSS, BUT THAT SADLY IS ONLY BECAUSE IM JEWISH.”
Personally, I am an animist. My spirit animal (a lemur riding a tiger through bear-infested woods) needs lots of love this week.