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A Good Night’s Sleep

A lot of whacky things seem to happen in Greece, a western suburb of Rochester. Bush visited the ideal community when he was trying to privatize Social Security. The former police chief is on trial and a couple of cops were busted for forced sex. Roderick Scott of Baneberry Way shot a 17 year old kid while he was trying to break into a neighbor’s truck. The kid was drunk and high and Scott claims he was “coming at me” so he shot him with his “legally permitted” pistol in self defense. Why didn’t he just stay in the house until the cops came?

We checked the paper this morning to find out if the “Bulldozer Guy” was convicted and he was but then we got stuck on this Greece story. We even listened to the 911 tapes. The story sort of got under our skin because when we were threatened by Jagger AGAIN, on our walk, it crossed both our minds that we could blow the dog away in self defense if we had a legally permitted weapon.

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Half Full, Half Empty . . .

Half Full, Half Empty, Fuck Off Coffee Cup
Half Full, Half Empty, Fuck Off Coffee Cup

A few years back I was having a discussion with Mike Deming and he said, “Oh yeah, you’re the ‘half full’ guy”. And I usually am so I didn’t argue. I spotted these coffee cups in a gallery in Williamsburg last weekend and recalled that quip. I had always heard the “half full, half empty” part but didn’t know there more to it.

Back on the street, our host, Duane, pointed to some of the newly painted bike lanes there and he told us a bit about Mayor Bloomberg buying some votes by having the lanes removed before the election so the Hasidic community didn’t have to look at scantily clad women as they rode through there neighborhood. It all sounded whacked but it’s a real story.

I road my bike to the post office this afternoon in fifteen degree weather and because the sidewalks are snow packed I stayed on the road. It gets crazy where Culver meets the Expressway. I’m thinking of painting some bike lanes over there when the weather breaks.

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Auto Tune This

You know that Pete LaBonne song where the guy fine tunes a radio station until it goes off the air? I spent a good bit of the day today in a dentist’s chair listening to an all Christmas satellite radio station. I don’t think I heard a single song with auto tune and yet it seems the entire top forty has been auto tuned.

And another thing. I made some hummus yesterday with a big can of Goya chick peas and a regular size can of Goya kidney beans. Peggi was working on these tables for a client and she called me into the other room while the hummus was pureeing.

The food processor started making a really loud grinding noise and we both looked at each other and at the same thinking “WTF?”. I went back out to the kitchen and it stopped. I pictured a frozen jalapéno from our garden temporarily stuck under one of the blades.

Tonight when we returned from our Margaret Explosion gig we both dove into the hummus and Peggi hit a hard nugget of something. She spit it out and it looked like wood. The hummus tasted funny too and I was thinking it was because I used too much garlic. We threw it away. I guess I could go back to Wegman’s with it but I wonder what Rich Stim would advise.

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NYC Hangover

Chelsea Gallery Hallway
Chelsea Gallery Hallway

Not that type of hangover, more like the way you feel after a really long walk. Renewed yet sluggish. And that’s probably why they say, “Great place to visit but I wouldn’t want to live there.”

Wandering in and out of galleries in Chelsea on Saturday alters your perception of everything. You start by just looking at the art, some great and some dreadful. There are so many galleries in this five or six block area that after a while you lose track of whether the art is on the walls or behind the desks where the gallery attendants sit with Apple monitors or in gallery goers themselves or out on the sidewalk or in the halls of a warehouse where you are desperately trying to find a bathroom.

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You Are The Figure

Bill Viola Video Still
Bill Viola Video Still

Duane had parked his car under a tree in Brooklyn (imagine that) and apparently pigeons like that tree so his car was covered with bird do do when we woke up. Fortunately he lives around the corner from Hollywood Lube & Wash, a 24 hour joint, so we took the car over and had them give it a bath. Chores attended to, we walked to the Ft. Hamilton subway stop and rode into lower Manhattan to gallery hop in Chelsea.

We spotted Bill Viola’s name on the door of a building on 26th Street and popped into a series of dark rooms filled with his l”Bodies of Light” videos. Our next stop was the David Hockney show of big bold paintings at Pace Wildenstein on 25th Street. There was a quote from Hockney on the wall that read, “I have taken to thinking of these recent canvases as figure paintings . . . you, the viewer, are the figure in them. If I was the figure in these paintings I would leave.

We continued to wander and found all sorts of fun stuff like the Warhol Polaroids of sports figures and a beautiful Bruce Davidson photo show. Before leaving Rochester, Brian Peterson had recommended a show by “Wallace Berman”, a friend of his Brian’s from his San Francisco days, so we tracked that show down. As luck would have it John Zorn, who had recorded a sound track to Berman’s 8 mm films was performing live in the gallery with Trevor Dunn bass and Kenny Wollesen on drums. The loose limbed Wollensen played with Bill Frisell at last years Jazz Fest. The film was projected on one of the gallery’s walls and the band set up facing the wall so they could play to the film. NY’s first couple, Lou Reed and Laurie Anderson, were seated in the front row.

We stopped at a green grocers on the way back and picked up a few things for as Duane termed it a “more hippy than Chinese” vegetable dish at Duane’s table and watched Duane’s and Howard Thompson‘s Suicide footage from Detich Galley in 02/02/02.

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Instant Agenda

"Untitled" by Philip Guston from Small Panels show at McKee Gallery
“Untitled” by Philip Guston from Small Panels show at McKee Gallery

We got out of town ahead just ahead of the other day and drove to my brother’s place in Montclair, New Jersey. We kept his kids up way too late, talking and listening to Christmas records from his vinyl collection. We had breakfast with the kids, who were already late for school, and said goodbye to my brother as he raced off to work. The last thing he said was, “I left part of the paper here for you”. So I dove into the Friday’s Fine Arts section and spotted a Philip Guston painting with a review by Roberta Smith of a show at Midtown’s McKee Gallery. We instantly had an agenda for our New York trip.

"Untitled" by Philip Guston from Small Panels show at McKee Gallery

We found our way to Brooklyn and parked the car for the weekend near Duane’s apartment. More coffee and the F train to midtown Manhattan for this eye popping show. Philip Guston is my favorite artist and these small panels blew me away. This was a sensational show. Only four of these pieces were for sale. You could pick up all four for 1.3 million.

Even the Metropolitan Museum could not top that show but Robert Frank’s “The Americans” was pretty incredible. The prints were so much richer than the old book I bought at Light Impressions when they upstairs in Midtown Plaza. It was like seeing these by now familiar photos for the first time. We had an eggplant sandwich and a corn muffin at the museum café and then Duane and Peggi went up to see the “Velazquez Rediscovered” show while I wandered off to the Roman art section and to photograph some busts. I can’t get over how contemporary these heads look, like people you know or wish you knew, even though they were sculpted around the time of Christ.

Duane is the perfect NYC guide. He wears an orange hat and Peggi and I just shut off our navigational instincts and gawk and follow the hat and try not to walk into a light pole or something. We took a couple of trains back to Brooklyn and hung out for bit in pad before heading back out to the Front Room Gallery in Williamsburg for an art opening. It was a “Multiples and Editions” show and the curator was a friend of Duanes. The thirty five artists all had small, very reasonably priced (for the holidays) art in every nook and cranny of the two funky rooms. Duane bought a pocket sized “Kodak Guide to Photographing Your Dog“.

After the opening we went next door to the Flying Cow, a saloon style Argentinean restaurant. We shared octopus salad and then a beet salad, a bottle of Spanish Rioja and two vegetarian dishes called, “Shangrila”. I spoiled a perfect meal by trying a Morcilla sausage appetizer. I’m a sucker for those Spanish delicacies. The bartender played the whole “Between The Buttons” record and then some Neil Young. We complimented him on the way out.

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Martian Art

Martian with her painting "Memories of Home 2" at High Falls Gallery
Martian with her painting “Memories of Home 2” at High Falls Gallery

At the same time Peggi and i were dodging Bleu Cease’s camera at the RoCo Members Show opening last Friday we heard this woman this women ask Bleu if he would take a picture of her in front of her painting. Of course the gallery director obliged. We ran into this same woman on Sunday when we stopped in at the “Upside Down” show at the High Falls Gallery in downtown Rochester. The director, Sally Wood Winslow, introduced me to her when I told Sally that I liked her painting.

The woman uses the name Martian and she took me out in the hall, away from Sally, Peggi and her mom, and she told me a story about how she first became aware of art. Her dad was looking at a magazine that had a feature on Andy Warhol’s soup cans. She said she remembered him ranting about how dumb those people were. “Those people?” I sort of asked. “White people” she said. And I spun out thinking about this.

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Young & Stupid

Big tire dumped at the end of Hoffman Road in Rochester, NY
Big tire dumped at the end of Hoffman Road

I used to hitchhike to work at my uncle’s grocery store and I met all these guys from East Rochester. They were a little bit hoodier than the guys in my high school and some already had cars. After work they liked to drive around and drink beer. The drinking age was 18 but we knew spots where you could walk in and buy a six at sixteen, no questions asked. And sometimes we just slipped beer out the back door of the store and hid it near the trash. We’d sit in a car on dead end roads or in the park and listen to the radio. On weekends we head over to Panorama Bowl for the teen dances and then these guys would drop me off at home.

We were always looking for places to dump the empties because we didn’t want to get caught with open containers. I remember one of the guys saying, “just thrown them on the lawn of a nice looking house and the people will pick them up in the morning.” It was so much fun being young and stupid, tossing  beer bottles out the window as we careened down a street with the radio cranked.

I’m reminded of those days every time we find Bud cans along the road on Hoffman. Last week somebody dumped this big tire down there. The photo doesn’t offer much evidence of scale but it is at least five feet high.

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Old World Shoes

Sofia Shoe Service on Monroe Avenue in Rochester, NY
Sofia Shoe Service on Monroe Avenue in Rochester,

When my grandfather first came to Rochester he found a job in a shoe factory on Elton Street where Bernie Lehman’s studio and Four Walls Gallery are. Shoes, not just “Made in America” but made in Rochester. i’ve been buying my shoes at Marshalls or Target and they are usually under $50. When they wear out it doesn’t even cross mind to have them repaired or resoled. I take it all these brown paper bag packages are waiting to be picked up so it looks like Sofia’s Shoe Service is weathering the storm.

I came in here with a leather jacket. Not a black biker thing but a cream colored dandy like leather jacket. Peggi’s father bought it on one of his foreign business trips and we never saw him wear it. I inherited it. It zips up on the wrong side like some women’s clothing does. I get compliments on it all the time. In fact Sue Rogers complimented me and I told her how I had wrecked it and she she suggested Sofia’s. I love it in here. I love Dave Kelly’s DA and the black hair and smile on the short woman behind the counter. Dave told me it cost about $35 to repair it and he said he didn’t think it was worth it because the leather was so dry. Thirty five dollars seemed like a steal so I had him go for it.

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That’s Italian

Henry B's restaurant in downtown Rochester NY
Henry B’s new owner’s father three times

I kind of miss doing half assed reviews of Italian Restaurants the way we did for the Refrigerator. I use the past tense “did” because that project became overwhelming. It was a hobby that spun out of control. To update it or add content is a nightmare. So many of the primary pages were done in the days before CSS an it is just begging to to MySQL or at least have php includes so I can update and add to the navigation as we continue to build without ripping apart thousands of pages. I have reworked it in my mind. I just need a little time to tidy it up.

But that isn’t even the real reason I stopped. Peggi is controlling her cholesterol with diet but to do so we have pretty much cut out cheese and butter which brings me to Henry B’s in downtown Rochester. The four salads in the “Insalata” all have mozzarella, Caesar dressing with parmesan reggiano, goat cheese, toasted pine nuts and Gorgonzola cheese.

We asked the manager which of the entrees didn’t include cheese or butter and recommended the “Pasta e Pollo” (Chunks of roasted chicken breast in a shitake mushroom and Marsala sauce. Tossed with rigatoni and finished with Parmesan Reggiano. “It only has a slight amount of butter” and parm. It was pretty amazing. We started with their flash fried “Calamari Fritti” which was tender, meaty and not as spectacular as Mario’s grilled calamari. We ordered a second pasta dish, “Gnocchi alla Mamma” (Homemade gnocchi tossed with tomato basil sauce and Parmesan Reggiano) that was delicious but there wasn’t enough sauce. And the “tomato basil sauce” looked and tasted creamy. Enough! This dish packed a wallop. We were with Peggi’s mom and only she had room for dessert. The portions are HUGE and we brought home enough for two addition meals.

I asked our server whether the three photos on the wall at the end of the room were all the same because I desperately wanted to find some difference in them because one didn’t bear the the decorator’s touch of repetition. They are all the new owner’s grandfather and they were all exactly the same. So this dude is competing with Henry B (on the door in photo above) who I gather was the original owner’s grandfather. And what’s with the painful smooth jazz with drum machine music? We heard the satellite station dj and we heard him back announce a David Sanborn track. My dentist has better music than that. We reviewed the former location and incarnation of this place few years back. I remember l liking it quite a bit.

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Boy Named Sue

Walking Tasha
Walking Tasha

We’ve been walking our neighbors dog while his owner recuperates from a bout a pneumonia. A few of our neighbor’s jaw’s dropped when they saw us stroll by with this guy. Some folks are dog people and some are not. Having been bit a couple of times, I fall somewhere in between and we sort of know which neighbors don’t care for them.

There must be a trick to getting the leash (rope) to stay on top of the dog but we haven’t figured that out yet. It keeps falling under the dog and then he steps on it while he walks and then pees on it when he lifts his leg (every other tree). Leo has named all his dogs Tasha. There were three before we moved here and there have been four since. This time Tasha is a boy and we keep saying “she” and then correcting ourselves. It gets tedious. Now I know how Johnny Cash felt. the new Tashas have all been part of Lollypop Farms” “Seniors For Seniors” program. Some are in rough shape themselves and they don’t last long. And then there was the one that bit me on the ass and then turned on Leo. He was taken back.

We visited Leo when he was in the nursing home and he told us he thought he had “passed the physical therapy test and he was going home”. He was sitting up, waiting for the doctor to stop by and sign the release, when we walked in. While we talked a nurse called us out in the hall to tell us that he had packed his clothes at least five times and they had to keep unpacking them and hanging them back up. He is a tough customer and it’s good to see him getting his strength back.

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Beautiful Thug

"Oracle" By Lee Hoag At RoCo Members Show
“Oracle” By Lee Hoag At RoCo Members Show

I dropped off a “Crime Face” painting at RoCo, one of over two hundred and fifty entries to their annual Members Show. We stopped in the opening on Friday night and wandered about. It’s always fun to follow your eyes in such a crowded show, spotting friend’s art and brand new gems. I wasn’t crazy about the yellow dot voting thing. This show is open to all members and should be above the curator or pedestrian curator evaluation. What was percentage of blue sky that people voted for in that over the couch painting contest? Was that a pre-internet factoid? I liked Lee Hoag’s little tv in the round room. I can’t remember what it was saying.

We stopped by Abilene after the show to wish Danny and Al a happy birthday. It was good to see/hear “The Balloon Buffoon” behind the board again. I asked Richard Edic if he had a piece in the show and he said that he did. We missed that so we shall return. The show will look completely different without the crowds and the ticky tock music.

I lost my Guston book. The one with the big head on the cover. I checked under the bead and even under the covers. bought it over at the MAG’s gift shop and I’ve been reading (looking at it) at night. I know it will turn up but its been two days. I spent some time at the Ornette Coleman site, playing harmolodically on the home page.

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There For You

Steve Hoy Smoking
Steve Hoy Smoking

Steve Hoy called yesterday to alert me to the fact that PopWars was down. Not just the blog but the site. I think the server went down. And when it came back the last few weeks of posts were missing. Looks like that was the most recent back up they had. So I used Google’s cached versions of the blog entries to sort of restore. It was a little tricky reentering the comments. As I was piecing it back together Steve sent this note.

“good to see you back up paul, altho looks like you are missing the last couple posts. dont worry, tiger woods has been having the exact same problem. Seriously, marshall mcluhan would be proud of POP WARS. i need you guys to be there for me, keep up the good work. also updates on sparky and the old man neighbor you have are always appreciated.”

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As It Seems

Bikes on trails in Durand Eastman Park
Bikes on trails in Durand Eastman Park

“No Bikes or Motorized Vehicles allowed on County Park trails”. I think that’s how the sign reads. Maybe that doesn’t apply to the gentle paths that circle the the two ponds in Durand Eastman Park (above). Nothing is as it seems anymore. That’s not right. Everything is as it seems, not as it is labeled. “Dogs Must Be Kept On Leash”, “No Texting While Driving”, “Fair & Balanced”. I better stop. They didn’t specifically say, “No Bulldozers allowed on County Park Paths” so I guess that lets Bulldozer Man off the hook.

Jeff Munson and Mike Allen were at the Margaret Explosion gig last night and we talking about another classmate who might be trapped in his blog. Conversation turned to Kevin Williams, the local meteorologist/global warming denier, and his wacky letter to the editor in the morning paper. Meanwhile, we might have just had the warmest November on record. I know, “Does not a trend make”.

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Amish Heaters

Leo's Amish Heater
Leo’s Amish Heater

Our neighbor, Leo, came to our door the other morning wondering if our electricity was working. I flicked on a few lights and told him it was. He said half of his lights were out so I told him I would come over and see if I could help. I had tried to help with an electrical problem before but neither of us could find the sub panel with the fuses. Leo has lived in this house for sixty years. An electrician eventually straightened him out then and he he found the sub panel. He figured Leo had blown the fuse when he fired up his old space heater and his new Amish heater at the same time. Only old people read the newspaper anymore and those Amish heaters are featured daily in full page ads. They are essentially a basic electric space heater with a lightbulb-powered display of fake burning logs. I can’t believe Leo fell for this.

He told me they save 15 per cent on your heating bill. I told him they were dangerous but he said they say a child can sit on the with getting burnt. I asked if he had both heaters on at once again and he admitted that he did. Consumer Reports says the $500 heaters are not made by the Amish but in China. It’s going to take longer than Leo has for him to start saving his fifteen per cent.

People sort of trust the Amish, their old fashioned values and all and it’s hard to believe they’re in cahoots with the Chinese on these things.

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Soul Power

Muhammad Ali in Soul Power
Muhammad Ali in Soul Power

Muhammad Ali is quoted as saying, “I am the greatest, I said that even before I knew I was. ” And he is even a bigger star than James Brown. We watched “Soul Power” at the George Eastman House’s Dryden Theater over the weekend. It’s really the outtakes from “When We Were Kings” which Peggi and I saw at the Little Theater with my father a few years back. But these outtakes are all music scenes from the 1974 concert and championship fight in Zaire, Africa. And it just when you think it couldn’t get any better than James Brown at his peak performing in Africa Muhammad Ali steals the scene.

Why didn’t we go hear Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings when they were in town last week because we are spoiled. We saw the Godfather of Soul (GFOS) a few times (Red Creek and the Auditorium Theater). In this movie James wore a wide scarf-like garment wrapped around his waist with “GFOS” printed on it and Peggi and I kept thinking of of Rochester’s “AKOS”, Mike Allen. But Mike could never get away with performing “I’m Black and I’m Proud” like James does here. I loved that song when it came out but that was easy. Duane went to a mostly black high school on Rochester’s west side and he said it was too much. James Brown even stopped performing the song because the song cost him a lot of my crossover audience. I noticed in the credits that Rochester’s Pee Wee Ellis gets co-writing credits for “I’m Black and I’m Proud”.

We finished our MySQL job and succesfully linked the first column of this page to a drawing with specs that come from the data base. Amazing. Of course we had help from Bill Jones and the flute player.

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Flesh Made Paint

Grafitti Tanks at Cobbs Hill in Fall 2009
Grafitti Tanks at Cobbs Hill in Fall 2009

We stopped back to see “Paint Made Flesh”, the sensational painting show at the Memorial Art Gallery. Last time we were here was for the opening and that is no time to see a show. This one, especially, requires some time with each of the all-star artist’s works. At the opening I was trying to survey the room between conversations and stack one painting against another from my vantage point. A much richer experience unfolds when you move from one to the next ignoring the damn placards on the wall and the audio tour and just letting the paintings talk to you one by one.

There are some absolutely beautiful paintings here like Picasso’s “The Artist and his Model“, Eric Fischl’s “Frailty Is a Moment of Self Reflection”, Richard Diebenkorn’s “Woman by a Window”, and Jenny Saville’s “Hyphen“. And then there are some tough, challenging paintings here like Guston’s “The Web“, Tony Bevan’s “Self Portrait”, Frank Auerbach’s “Head of David Landau”, Susan Rothenberg’s “Crying“, Lucian Freud’s “Standing by the Rags” and Alice Neel’s “Randall in Extremis“. I found these to be the most rewarding.

And hey, Francis Bacon, Francesco Clemente, George Baselitz, A.R. Penck, David Park, John Currin and the film director, Julian Schnabel are all in the house. The show is up until January 3rd. You gotta get over there.

I was just getting ready to pop a picture of Picasso’s painting when the guard said, “No photos.” We left the gallery and headed over to Cobbs Hill where we walked up the hill and around the empty reservoir and then into the woods to the graffiti tanks at Washington Park. From high brow to Low Brow, there are no rules up there.

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Long Live Print

Budweiser cans and bottle found on Hoffman Road
Budweiser cans and bottle found on Hoffman Road

Our neighbor, Leo, lost his teeth and so he puts all his food in blender but he can still gum his way through pumpkin pie. We gave him a few pieces yesterday and I met him at the door this morning when he brought the empty pie tin back. He looked down at this small pile of Budweiser product by our door but didn’t say anything so I volunteered that we found them all down on Hoffman Road when we were walking. After a few month break the Budweiser guy is back in business. I noticed that Bud did a 50 year commemorative 20 ounce can for the hapless Bills.

I miss “Print Magazine” and I’m still an avid newspaper reader but we were certain print was about dead for our business but we wound up working yesterday and today on revisions for an annual report (that was supposed to be at the printers before Thanksgiving) and a neighborhood association brochure (that is due on Monday). It still feels dead even as we work overtime on it, all that fussing with CMYK, traps, dot gain and line breaks. Can’t wait to get back on the MySQL project we started where we imported a database with links on the part numbers that pop open a generic drawing that gets specific measurement data fed to the drawing from the database.

We’ve been eating leftovers since t-day. I sort of feel like that pile of bud cans at our door.

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Live Up

Margaret Explosion Abilene 11.25.09 CD release Party for "Live Dive"
Margaret Explosion Abilene 11.25.09 CD release Party for “Live Dive”

It was a trip to come home to this photo from Kathy Palokoff’s iPhone and this email from Frank Paolo.

“So there I was all day telling myself positive sentences about seeing your launch tonight.  I actually got it together, showered/shaved, found some ‘not too dirty clothes’ (they passed the sniff test), and got on the bus at 6:15.  I confidently (pretending) walked down the street where Daisy Dukes is and NO ABELIENE – no one ever heard of it. Not in Moes, the Little – nobody in the whole East End. I slouched and stumbled back to my digs disappointed I couldn’t be there and give you a cheer.  BUT I tried – I REALLY tried.  One of these days I will again try to get good at life.
paolo.”

Funny that Giant Panda Guerilla Dub Squad (about three names too many) had a cd release party tonight for “Live Up” while we had ours for “Live Dive”. Maybe we can trade cds. I like that band. Thanks to all you that climbed the stairs at Abilene tonight. Thanks to the honorary Margo members, Jack Schaeffer and Phil Marshall for sitting in. Thanks to Bob Martin for the movies.

In the chill out room, after the show, the iTunes shuffle dj stacked Television (with Richard Hell still in the band), MX-80’s “Follow That Car”, Nod’s “I Get Around” and Wire’s “I Am The Fly”. Wow.

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Sparky’s Shed

Sparky’s Shed

We were one thousand five hundred miles late for our oil change at Jerome’s but Ted didn’t seem to mind. Our Honda has been pretty damn reliable. Ted was always delivering bad news when he serviced our American cars. I should say that the window sticker said our Honda was made in Ohio so maybe it is an American car after all.

After Jerome’s I stopped by to visit our former neighbor, Sparky. He showed me pictures of his car that was recently totaled while he was sitting in it, parked in front of a friend’s house. The driver of the other car was black as is often the case with antagonists in Sparky stories. I had keys to his garage and shed when we lived next door and I still had them on my key ring so we went out back to see if they worked. They did and I surrendered them. I miss that shed and took a photo of it on the way out. Invisible Idiot named a song after it so it lives on.

I organized a setlist to shuffle on our iPod at tomorrow night’s Margaret Explosion Abilene gig. I threw some Edith Piaf, Last Poets, Duke Ellington, George Jones and cumbia in there. In the old days, in other bands, we would have had a setlist for the band performance but Margaret Explosion doesn’t work that way. I stopped by Nino’s Pizzeria and prepared them for a big order. And we confirmed that Glen, the tech savy bartender at Abilene, has the right cord to go from our laptop to the VGA in on Abilene’s projector. Bob Martin rounded up some June Taylor like visuals and we plan to go into full screen mode with the Quicktime files. I’d be happy with iTunes “Visualizer” but I can do that at home.

When Duane was up here last he told us that humus made with bean other than chick peas was all the rage in NYC. So I tried black bean humus a few weeks ago and it came out more Mexican than Greek. Last night I made a batch and mistakenly opened a can of kidney beans along with a can of Garbonzos so I went with it. I put some roasted peppers in there too and a jalapeno and some Spanish paprika so it is very red. It is sensational. I plan to serve that at out T-day bash.

Tonight is the last painting class. I have resigned myself to the fact that I will be a lifelong student and plan to return in the new year.

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