sovay | Now you've had your Waterloo, sir—tell me what am I having with you, sir?

Current Music: Trout Fishing in America, "What I Want Is a Proper Cup of Coffee"

Now you've had your Waterloo, sir—tell me what am I having with you, sir?

Back from D.C. Summarized in the usual fashion, i.e., while waiting at train stations, bus stops, and airports—

Eureka (2006—) is a charming show. I'm so glad Joe Morton has a regular job.

My god-daughter is Leora bat Chana u'Maya. There is at least one adorable photo of her having commandeered my hat at Adas Israel; she was valiant and only started to scream her displeasure the third time

strange_selkie immersed her. I had never been to a mikvah before. I do not think it is a ritual I would take up on my own time; I would feel more sacred in the sea. But I was glad to be there for it nonetheless.

(I brought her a kiddush cup with a motif of peacocks: di goldene pave, the messenger of loved ones, symbol of poetry and distant lands in Yiddish literature and folksong. It may have another significance in modern Judaism, but that is the spirit in which I gave it. She thought it was pretty, but the bubble wrap was really fun.)

I have no idea if The Far Side of the World (1985) is the right place to start with Patrick O'Brian, but I loved the book. Like, finished day before yesterday and then re-read on the flight back loved. I wonder if the Harvard Book Store still has the rest of the series remaindered. I might be able to get matching editions for my trade paperback with the scientist pin-up cover.

I am weirdly proud of myself for thinking that "What I Want Is a Proper Cup of Coffee" sounded like something that should have been sung by Harry Champion, because it turns out to have been written by R.P. Weston and Bert Lee. Alas, I cannot find a contemporary recording on the internet, but at least Trout Fishing in America don't do a Herman's Hermits on their version—you can actually learn all of the verses, albeit with very funny voices.

I was amused by the existence of the Noyes Library, since everyone pronounces it like the decibel level, not like a one-room children's library named after . . . somebody Noyes, I assume. It contained a number of picture books I hadn't seen since the early '90's, although not the one about the sea ghastlies that I've never been able to find again. Selkie couldn't explain why I don't own Mary Pope Osborne's Mermaid Tales from Around the World (1993), either.

I don't think my opinion of the extended edition of The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) has changed any from seeing it on a big screen, but it was incredibly fun. I wish I could follow it up with the rest of the trilogy, but I feel like it was dumb luck that I got a ticket on the day to this showing at all; I have no confidence that the other two haven't sold out already in Boston. I might try anyway.

(The realization of the world is gorgeous, almost all of the characterizations work for me, the pacing is shot to hell and after the initial sequences in the Shire, the script never really figured out how to integrate humor without it sticking out like a broken bone. I stare determinedly offscreen during the Ring's temptation of Galadriel, which would have been as powerful as it is in the book if only Peter Jackson had dialed down one hundred percent of the special effects.)

I was staying with Selkie and Rami on this trip, so I had no chance for Ishtar to shed on me (their three cats are either jealous or indifferent gods), but B. has now introduced me to Ray's Hell Burger, which demonstrated that the only thing better than a near-tartare burger is a near-tartare burger that has been crusted in black pepper. Also, it doesn't hurt if you throw mushrooms on it.

B. also introduced me to the tinfoil shrine in the folk art section of the American Art Museum. I am perhaps more immediately disconcerted by the painting of the Great Whore of Babylon filled with neon-pink dashes and helpful labels like "Waters = Nations" and "She Is A City" (which I think should be the title of a 16 Horsepower album), but the shrine looks more convincingly alien than the set design of many well-regarded films and television shows I've seen. There was also this giraffe covered in bottlecaps. I am informed the only reason Henry Darger isn't in the same exhibit is he's got his own museum.

York Castle Tropical Ice Cream in Rockville does not appear to have a website, but its regular flavors include mango, guava, lychee, soursop, and sapote, and their seasonal flavors have included jackfruit and tamarind. It is probably just as well that I don't live in the D.C. area, because I don't really want to test the effects of overdosing on Annona muricata, but it was the best ice cream I've had in months.

Wow, having a stranger's hands jammed into your crotch is an unpleasant experience. Thank you, TSA. I couldn't have figured that out on my own.

Happy Bloomsday.

The grainy sand had gone from under his feet. His boots trod again a damp crackling mast, razorshells, squeaking pebbles, that on the unnumbered pebbles beats, wood sieved by the shipworm, lost Armada. Unwholesome sandflats waited to suck his treading soles, breathing upward sewage breath, a pocket of seaweed smouldered in seafire under a midden of man's ashes. He coasted them, walking warily. A porterbottle stood up, stogged to its waist, in the cakey sand dough. A sentinel: isle of dreadful thirst. Broken hoops on the shore; at the land a maze of dark cunning nets; farther away chalkscrawled backdoors and on the higher beach a dryingline with two crucified shirts. Ringsend: wigwams of brown steersmen and master mariners. Human shells.

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I MAAAY be off my dot
But I want a cup of coffee from a proper coffeepot.

In any case, good to see you're back.

I MAAAY be off my dot
But I want a cup of coffee from a proper coffeepot.

Does this mean you own a music-hall-type recording or you also heard it from Trout Fishing in America?

(I'd never heard it before; it was on a mix CD

darthrami had made.)

In any case, good to see you're back.

Hey.

Iron coffee pots and tin coffee pots oh
They're no use to me...

I know an older dude named Greg Clarke who has a great repertoire of comedy songs, and he taught me "Coffeepot". It's one of the songs I always sing at parties with my dad. No word on where Greg learned it, but I'll get you a copy of his rendition, which is very cute.

No word on where Greg learned it, but I'll get you a copy of his rendition, which is very cute.

Oh, sure. I have Trout Fishing in America; I looked online for whoever might have originated it in 1926, but so far nothing.

I know that Technical Difficulties used to do it, but I don't think there's a recording of them. I knew it orally too, but then learned it again from Trout Fishing.

I like how you snuck the writing on there at the end. :D

I like how you snuck the writing on there at the end.

Dude, I'm flattered, but that's James Joyce!

I like "stogged."

Nine

Psht. Getting my hopes up. (I only ever read The Dead. I am, however, writing for my own part. Not James Joyce.)

(I only ever read The Dead.

Read Ulysses! Joyce knows how to write the sea!

I am, however, writing for my own part. Not James Joyce.)

Yay.

Sounds like a glorious visit, other than Galadriel and the TSA. Good to have you back.

Nine

Sounds like a glorious visit, other than Galadriel and the TSA.

My sleep index is nil—I slept on a downstairs couch in a house with three cats—but pretty much, it was.

The Far Side of the World is not a bad entry -- and there are far worse ones, as some are definitively mid-arc. I'm a fan of starting in the beginning, myself, but others disagree.

---L.

I'm a fan of starting in the beginning, myself, but others disagree.

Fortunately, I also own the first novel. I was just lured by the geography of this one.

Entirely fair - but now go back and start at the beginning, as you ought. And read them all.

Including the incomplete 21st novel.

---L.

If you like Ray's Hell Burger, you should try Ray's The Classics in Silver Spring next time--the art of the steak. The mashed potatoes are to die for, and my mother's favorite dessert is the root beer float.

If York Castle in Rockville is a spinoff of the one on Georgia Avenue, then it was started in the '80s by former employees of Gifford's (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gifford%27s_Ice_Cream_%26_Candy_Co.), who kept the Silver Spring parlor (and it was a parlor) afloat as long as they could when Gifford's was failing. We used to go there for special occasions; truly spectacular ones warranted the Big Top, which was cake and jam topped by many scoops of ice cream and the usual trimmings, and little chipped pitchers of hot fudge sauce to pour on. A family of four could not finish one, though we tried.

York Castle went in a different direction, but the ice cream is just as good. I always favored coconut.

Ray's The Classics in Silver Spring next time--the art of the steak.

Hmm. I am basically carnivorous.

The mashed potatoes are to die for, and my mother's favorite dessert is the root beer float.

If they really do a good root beer float, I haven't had one of those in years.

If York Castle in Rockville is a spinoff of the one on Georgia Avenue, then it was started in the '80s by former employees of Gifford's, who kept the Silver Spring parlor (and it was a parlor) afloat as long as they could when Gifford's was failing.

I was given to understand it's not a spinoff so much as the guy who makes the tropical ice cream just relocated.

strange_selkie or

darthrami would have the full story.

Ray's Hellburger has the root beer float too, or did last time I was there.

Ray's Hellburger has the root beer float too, or did last time I was there.

We have a plan.

Not a spinoff - the man who opened the one on Georgia Avenue sold that one to somebody else (who no longer uses his recipes), and he opened the one in Rockville. (Which was his reason for moving in the first place.) Why he wanted to move the store to Rockville, I don't know, but the rest we have not just from an article, but confirmed from the horse's mouth, so to speak.

Congratulations! I'm glad for all the lovely things, but sorry for the TSA vermin.*

Also glad you're enjoying Patrick O'Brian. I really need to finish reading through the Aubrey and Maturin books--I've much loved the ones I've read so far.

I can't seem to see the cute photograph, unfortunately.

Happy Bloomsday!

*I've not flown in years, and sometimes I think this is a very good thing. Last fall the TSA damaged my dear friend A.'s concertina by shaking it, apparently because they couldn't believe in the existence of a musical instrument not seen on MTV or in a symphony orchestra. Fortunately, she was able to fix it herself before the gig, but she was in a terrible state of nerves.

Ahh, the TSA. I get felt up regularly, because I tend to find skirts more comfortable than pants for traveling in, and I could be concealing! something! Also, their machines, last time, couldn't see through my paperback novels. Seriously? At least the tin-foil-wrapped-cookies seemed like a reasonable thing to want to get a closer look at- but Gone With the Wind, and To Say Nothing of the Dog?

but Gone With the Wind, and To Say Nothing of the Dog?

Oh, that's subversive stuff.

Last fall the TSA damaged my dear friend A.'s concertina by shaking it, apparently because they couldn't believe in the existence of a musical instrument not seen on MTV or in a symphony orchestra.

Oh, God. Eat your heart out, Tom Paxton! I'm glad her concertina was all right.

I can't seem to see the cute photograph, unfortunately.

Hm. Can you see it here?

Oh, God. Eat your heart out, Tom Paxton!

Indeed. On the same subject, did you see the video "United Breaks Guitars" that was going round a couple of years back? I dread having to fly again. Last time I did, I stuck a little soprano banjo in my suitcase, wrapped up in socks. I'm still not entirely content with said instrument--still haven't found the right stringing for her, as she started out a banjo ukulele--but I really should get her up and running, just in case. Sometime when I've the dosh I need to locate the cheapest possible playable octave mandolin, for the sake of having something I can sing to, which will fit into an overhead compartment, and which wouldn't leave me heartbroken if damaged.

I'm glad her concertina was all right.

Thanks.

Hm. Can you see it here?

I can. Nice hat!

More importantly, the wearer is adorable. Congratulations once again, and I'm sorry I'm so late getting back to you.

I think the only one I read was MASTER AND COMMANDER, but I remember liking the detail of it.

What's your subject line from? A song? A poem? It caught my attention.

What's your subject line from? A song? A poem? It caught my attention.

It's from "What I Want Is a Proper Cup of Coffee," although it's a bit hard to make out in this version due to the Mel Brooks French ("We are so poor, we do not even have a language! Just this stupid accent!").

I am perhaps more immediately disconcerted by the painting of the Great Whore of Babylon filled with neon-pink dashes and helpful labels like "Waters = Nations" and "She Is A City" (which I think should be the title of a 16 Horsepower album),

Yes and yes! I want to see the bottlecap giraffe, too.

Your Bloomsday quote is so perfect. My cousin was telling me, as the fishing boat was returning, how my dad's good friend Tom Smith, who loved and loved and LOVED James Joyce, came out fishing one time with my cousin, and was quoting to him extensively from Ulysses.

He might have been quoting that very passage.

Is there any way to see the peacock cup?

I want to see the bottlecap giraffe, too.

I thought at first that it was a llama or vicuña, but I was wrong.

My cousin was telling me, as the fishing boat was returning, how my dad's good friend Tom Smith, who loved and loved and LOVED James Joyce, came out fishing one time with my cousin, and was quoting to him extensively from Ulysses.

Nice. He does write a beautiful sea.

So how was the fishing?

Is there any way to see the peacock cup?

I'll see if I can get Rami or Selkie to take a photograph of it.

I'll see if I can get Rami or Selkie to take a photograph of it. Yay!

So how was the fishing?

It was great--there was sunrise and seasickness and many kinds of fish, and seagulls, and seals in the water. Many many posts to come, on these and related topics.

I found a photo online to be going on with, but yes, I want to find the camera battery, because the one you actually got was an order of magnitude nicer and more neatly painted.

Also:

"You know what you can do with your vicuña!" may be the only line I like in Sunset Boulevard, the musical.

Also also, you didn't make mention of the drag queens, but then, I remembered, you only caught "Lipsync for Your Life."

(I do look forward to your own photo, too, though, of the peacock cup)

And You know what you can do with your vicuña is a line worth *seeing* a whole musical for.

http://www.ahuva.com/detail.aspx?ID=5172&Affiliate=2 is the general idea, though the paintwork looks a bit shabby in the online pic (of all things!) Ours has the same peacock, but was better-painted, better-lacquered, and the details were done with a bit more oomph. It did come with some excellent bubble wrap, as well.

Oh even from this picture you can see it's beautiful! Lovely colors, and charming design!

And bubble wrap is a present in and of itself :D

Thanks for posting the link.

I suspect the eponymous Noyes is probably Alfred Noyes who wrote The Traveller among other poems. I like it as a library name!

We have a very similar wonderful ice cream parlor in my neighbourhood in Jersey City, which is, sadly, currently under renovation. They have all the flavors mentioned as well as 'exotic' flavors, like chocolate, vanilla and strawberry.

I suspect the eponymous Noyes is probably Alfred Noyes who wrote The Traveller among other poems.

Crosby Stuart Noyes, apparently.

Oh well, so much for that theory.

It's a really cute building. Do you know

coraline? She has a hobby of photographing libraries wherever she goes.

Do you know coraline? She has a hobby of photographing libraries wherever she goes.

We actually went to the same high school.

The cosmos is indeed, tinier than expected, as usual.

It's sort of a wonder we didn't meet prior to this year.

As someone who happens to be named Noyes, ironically it is pronounced "noise". ;)

As someone who happens to be named Noyes, ironically it is pronounced "noise".

Fair enough; it was also the emphasis, almost like a compound word—noise-library—which I'm sure is a concept someone's written at least one children book about.

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Now you've had your Waterloo, sir—tell me what am I having with you, sir?

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