Forward, Into the Past! The Rich Man’s Disease Strikes Again

I have the Rich Man’s Disease, the Disease of Kings.  I have Gout!

Somewhere, the Gods are Laughing.

Artist’s Conception

I’m in good company.  Among the famous sufferers of gout were Henry VIII, Queen Anne of Great Britain, John Calvin, Kublai Khan, Nostradamus, John Milton, Isaac Newton, Henry Fielding, Samuel Johnson, Charles V, Alfred Lord Tennyson, George IV, John Hancock, Thomas Jefferson, Karl Marx, William Pitt, 1st Earl of Chatham, Benjamin Disraeli, Rubens, Alexander Hamilton, Benjamin Franklin, to name but a few.

Notice that all of the names on this list were around prior to the 20th century.  Gout is something I associate with a fat, red-faced English country squire in his powdered wig, gouty foot propped up on a footstool made from a real elephant’s foot, waving his walking stick while damning the Radicals and Freethinkers.

Actually, it sounds like a pretty good gig.

- Poppa

Returning to the Scene of the Marriage

Several months ago, Nan bought tickets to a Gipsy Kings (yes, that’s how they spell their name) concert at Powell Symphony Hall.  She bought them for the evening of June 5th, our 33rd wedding anniversary.  The date was purely a coincidence; June 5th was the only night they were in St. Louis.  Nan is a Gipsy Kings fan.  I’m not, particularly.  I don’t dislike them, I find their music enjoyable, but I don’t feel about them the way I feel about Led Zeppelin, Dread Zeppelin, or John Prine. 

We had planned to have a pre-concert dinner at Vito’s, a good restaurant convenient to Powell Hall, but bad planning on my part and scarcity of parking caused us to seek dinner someplace closer to the venue.  We walked down Grand Avenue, looking for alternatives, and settled on a place called Wm. Shakespeare’s Gastropub.  Since we like both gastronomy and pubs, we decided to give it a try.  I had a snort of Jameson’s and excellent fish and chips, and Nan had a serviceable curry.  It wasn’t until we paid our bill and walked across the street that we realized we’d been dining in the Old University Club building.  We were married in this building, 33 years ago to the day.

We were married at Seminex, the Concordia Seminary in Exile.  In 1976, Seminex occupied the top floors of the Old University Club building on Grand Avenue.  Our officiant was Father John Damm, the founding academic dean of Seminex and an old friend of Nan’s family.  Nan grew up calling him ”Uncle John.”  We were married on the 10th floor and had our reception on the top floor.  We were amused that we were oblivious to where we were having supper.  We never fail to point the building out when we’re with friends.

We finished our walk to Powell Hall and found our seats, third row center.  The King’s percussion gear was extensive.

The Gipsy Kings are an amalgam of two families backed by two drummers, a keyboardist and a bass player.  They were introduced as some of France’s most popular musicians.  I had no idea they originated in France, I assumed they were Spanish or Latin-American.  Turns out, they were born in France, but their parents were Catalonian.  They’re credited with introducing Rumba Catalana to a worldwide audience.

The introduction of the Kings was the last English we heard from the stage that night.  Being monolingual, Nan and I couldn’t understand a word the Kings were singing.  It could have been, “Spam-Spam-Spam-Spam-Spam-Baked-Beans-and-Spam” for all we knew.  The sound system wasn’t doing a very good job of projecting the vocals, but it didn’t seem to matter, those who understood the words were singing along from memory.  During the last couple of numbers, fans poured down the aisles to gyrate in front of the stage.

The Gipsy Kings put on one hell of a show.  I may not be a fan of their recordings, but I loved seeing their performance.

- Poppa

New Yawk and Canada in Pictures

I’ve finally got the New York/Canada photos posted on the web page.  It was a great trip.

- Poppa

Veridian Dynamics – When Presidents Talk

Viands with Vince

Thursday night we had a Weapons IT Team field trip to Tony’s, considered by many to be the best restaurant in St. Louis.  Tony’s is owned and operated by the legendary Vince Bommarito, a man who has devoted his whole life to fine dining and customer service.  Many of the giants of the St. Louis restaurant business got their start in the kitchen at Tony’s.

Our team has a slight work connection with Vince.  One of our teammates is a Tony’s regular and invited him to speak to us about customer service at an off-site meeting we attended at the Boeing Leadership Center (which is a MIND BOGGLING facility, by the way, but that’s another story).  We liked what he had to say, and we thought it would be fun to visit his place as a group.  Six of us, along with four significant others, made the trip Thursday night.

Vince Bommarito stopped by the table a couple of times to make sure all was well.

Tony’s is renowned for its food and its service.  The service was certainly vigorous; they actually put your napkin in your lap, which is a procedure I’ve only encountered at Hooters up ’til now (really!).  It was a little disconcerting to stand up and be fumbling around behind your back for your chair only to find a member of the waitstaff operating it for you.  They were always standing by, ready to top off your beverage (I had a bottle of the house cola) or whisk away the unnecessary flatware.

The food was why we were here, though.  Much of it was prepared or finished tableside.

Nan and I split an appetizer of Seared Sea Scallops with Black Truffles.  The scallops were huge, with a buttery yet firm consistency and a delicate flavor that was perfectly complimented by the black truffle sauce.  I looked around to make sure Vince wasn’t watching and mopped up the remaining sauce with a piece of bread.

Nan had an insalata of Baby Asparagus and Belgian Endive.  The asparagus was firm but not stringy, just as you’d want it to be.

My Primi Piatti (first plate) was fettuccine with morel mushrooms.  Outstanding!  And, once again, the remaining sauce was retrieved with the bread.

My Secondi Piatti was Prime Sirloin Steak Diavola, steak smothered in peppercorn sauce, spicy hot but delicious and one of the best cuts of beef I’ve had since I moved to St. Louis.  It came with Arancini, a Sicilian rice ball, on the side.  The Steak Diavola disabused me of any notion that Tony’s was going to give us a dinky little Nouvelle cuisine entrée.

The food at Tony’s was wonderful and the service was unlike any I’ve ever had, but it was a real extravagance.  We’re about to enter a voluntary period of austerity, just to see if we can do it, and I’m not sure when we’ll be back.   But it was a remarkable experience.

- Poppa

This is Big! This is Really Big! Really, Really Big!

There is a Maid-Rite in St. Louis!

 

Frabjousness on a plate.

Oh frabjous day!!!

- Poppa

How to Honor the Irish-Italian Heritage of St. Patrick

I spent an enjoyable St. Paddy’s Day morning in Dogtown, hanging with my friends from St. Louis Caledonian Pipes and Drums (formerly Invera’an), getting sunburned and taking pictures.  It was a bea-UTIFUL day.  I arrived in the vicinity at around nine AM and was able to drive right through the parade assembly area and park in the Zoo lot (rock star parking).  I wandered around, drinking coffee, until I encountered a couple of pipers and followed them to the site of the Annual Buckley Clan Beer Brats and Booze Bacchanalia where band members were mingling with Buckleys, drinking beer and booze, and eating brats for breakfast.

 

The Caledonians vanish into a sea of green on Tamm Ave.

I accompanied the band a little ways at the start of the parade, saw them well-launched up Tamm Avenue, and left for my next rendezvous with ethnicity, The Hill, home of all things Italian in St. Louis.

OK, claiming that St. Patrick was Italian is a bit of a stretch; he was born in what is now Scotland.  But his parents were citizens of Rome, so it can be argued that he was Italian at birth (assuming Roman citizen = Italian, which is a MAJOR stretch).  At any rate, if I can justify a trip to Eovaldi’s Deli by claiming St. Patrick is Italian, he’s Italian.

The Hill was looking a little empty, possibly many of its denizens were over in Dogtown, wearing green and calling themselves O’Garanzini.  It was my first trip to Eovaldi’s.  We read about it in the last issue of Sauce Magazine.  Eovaldi’s is a no-nonsense Deli, a couple of cooler cases holding meat, cheese, homade salsiccia, and cold drinks.  There are a few tables if you can’t wait to get out the door with your sanguche.

 

The Daddy 

I was there for The Daddy, a combination of two of my favorite things, meatballs and sausage.  The Daddy is described as, “Our world famous salsiccia combined with our handmade meatballs topped with provel and a generous portion of our homemade red sauce served on french bread.”  And it was named after me!

My last entry here described, in glowing terms, our trip to Mia Rosa, where we dined on exotic dishes and drank fine wine in an elegant atmosphere.  I meant every word, Nan and I enjoyed ourselves enormously.  But.  The Daddy represents what I love best in food, fresh, simple, flavorful, and wrapped in tin foil.

Eovaldi’s hasn’t seen the last of me.

- Poppa

Books and Bodyguards

One of the best things about living downtown is that interesting people sometimes drop by your neighborhood.  It never happened in the ‘burbs.  This week the neighborhood hosted Jimmy Carter and his entourage while he signed books a block from home at Left Bank Books.

Most Left Bank events we’ve been to have been pretty laid-back, though some of the larger celebs have been less so.  This one was highly regimented.  You didn’t get to go unless you bought Mr. Carter’s latest book We Can Have Peace in the Holy Land, from Left Bank.  When you bought the book, you were given a ticket and told to report to the building across the street from the bookstore for queue management.  You could show up any time after 3 PM and the former president would start signing at 5 PM.

We didn’t head over until Nan got home from work, a little before 5.  The line was around the corner at the bookstore, but considering the stature of the author, it didn’t seem too bad.  Then we realized most of the line was still in the store across the street.

You had to show your ticket and your book to get into the building.  Once you were inside, you had to find the end of the line.  What looked like a mob of people was actually one long line serpentining around a huge open area.  As the line on the sidewalk accross the street was processed, they would escort another group of 50 people or so over to the store.

Once you were in the sidewalk line, things moved pretty fast.

Inside the store you were cautioned to have your book opened to the title page, and as you approached Jimmy’s table, you just handed your book to a person who handed it to another person who handed it to Jimmy for signing.  There was no opportunity to actually interact with the former President and no “Who should I make this out to?” individuality.  The whole process happened so fast you didn’t even stop walking while he signed your book.

There was no picture taking in the line either, but after you had your book signed, you could go to the Designated Picture Taking Area and take all the pictures you wanted.  I didn’t notice this bodyguard giving me the gimlet eye until I got home and downloaded the pictures.

The main thing to remember when taking pictures is, keep snapping the shutter.  I finally got a fairly decent shot of Jimmy on the 30th try.

Now, to read the book.

- Poppa

Saltimbanco, Ginger, and Curry

On Sunday we accompanied Nan’s sister Mary Jo and our friends Kayte and Scott to the St. Charles Family Arena for a performance of Saltimbanco.  Saltimbanco is a Cirque du Soleil touring show, the oldest of the touring shows still on the road and the second Cirque du Soleil show we ever saw.  In 1992 we saw it twice in Atlanta when it was being performed in the grand chapiteau (big top).  Now it’s what Cirque calls an “arena show” because it’s being performed inside local stadiums and arenas.

Seventeen years later, it was still a magical experience for us.  The show has changed, but for the better.  The acrobatics are more daring and elaborate and the music seems to have darker overtones.  I actually found it to be a very emotional experience.  It evoked early memories of Cirque du Soleil, before it was ubiquitous, before the Internet was in common use, before we’d ever seen anything like it, and before we had any idea who these crazy people were.  We just knew we were entranced.

After the performance, we returned to Scott and Kayte’s house for dinner.  We’d rendezvoused there before the show so we could carpool to the Arena.  It gave us a chance to load-test the Fit.  We learned the Fit can fit five average and above-average-sized people AND still make it up a fairly steep grade.

Kayte had prepared an Indonesian meal for us, a beef curry often included as part of a Rijsttafel (rice table), a traditional Indonesian/Dutch meal dating from colonial times. 

The meal was prefaced by Ginger Vodka Gimlets, extremely flavorful and made with fresh ginger.  Then Kayte set out the garnishes for the curry.

The salad was crisp bibb lettuce with goat cheese, tangerine slices, walnuts to taste and a light champagne dressing.  Cool and refreshing.

The pièce de résistance, beef curry on rice, garnished with peanuts, green onions, freshly-ground coconut, cucumbers, hard-boiled eggs, and mango chutney.  The beef was fall-apart tender and wonderfully seasoned.

Altogether, a perfect 4-F day (food, family, friends, and fun).

- Poppa

Do Do That Hulu That They Do So Well

The long nightmare is over! Once again, we can watch (almost) current TV on demand, complete with the oh-so-essential Pause function, while ensconced in our big ol’ TV-watchin’ chairs.  But this time we’re not at the mercy of DIRECTV or any of the other Big Cable minions of the Devil.  And the best thing is, IT’S FREE!  Sort of.  Ya gotta have the bandwidth. * See the Boring Stuff if you want to know more about bandwidth.

After several months of frustration, I finally bit the bullet and had a member of the Geek Squad come out and tell me why I wasn’t able to get my HDMI cable to work between our PC and our HDTV (it turns out I was NOT supposed to use the Expletive Deleted PC setting on the TV).  Now our 1080p HDTV functions as a really high-resolution giant PC monitor.

While it’s great fun being able to blog from across the room, my real motivation for this was to watch our favorite cable channel shows on free PC TV.  Now we can enjoy new Battlestar Galactica episodes in style and comfort the morning after they debut on the Sci Fi channel.

While Erin was here last week, we watched Battlestar Galactica while huddled around the laptop, just like Neanderthals huddled around a campfire 50,000 years ago, or Hippies huddled around an old RCA Victor 40 years ago.  As we huddled, Erin told us about a site called hulu, where there is a huge amount of video content, both movies and TV, both old and new.

There seems to be some kind of Harmonic Convergence going on here.  Internet TV was the subject of a recent CNN headline story, and millions of people around the world heard about hulu during a Superbowl XLIII ad.  I’ve also tried some of the Netflix Instant Play features now that I can see them on a big screen.

There are still some down-sides.  The streaming video will occasionally hang and the quality of the images isn’t as sharp as DIRECTV high def (the Netflix Instant Play features look better and have been more reliable, so far).  There are supposed to be some HD shows available on hulu but I’ve mostly been watching old episodes of Lost in Space from the sixties, so HD hasn’t been a priority yet.

The hulu stuff isn’t commercial free, but the commercials are few in number and brief in duration, at least for now.  They are also not diverse and make hulu look like a front for the DoD.  I must have seen the same six Air Force ads twenty times each by now.  Unlike Tivo, you can’t fast-forward through the commercials, though you can see where they will be in the progress meter at the bottom of the screen.  If you try to jump beyond the next commercial, you’ll be routed through the ad before you can get to where you want to go in the program.  Gotcha!

I suspect this is going to get a lot better as additional shows jump on board and streaming reliability and image quality improves.  It’s also probably going to get a little worse as advertisers figure out this is where their rice bowl is going to be in the future.

Damn, I love being alive in this day and age.

- Poppa

* This is the Boring Stuff

Hulu requires a minimum download bandwidth of 1,000 Kbps (kilobits per second) and recommends a bandwidth of 1,500 Kbps to watch most videos.  To give you an idea where this fits into The World, AT&T Basic DSL is rated at 768 Kbps.  You might be able to watch most of the clips with this level of service, but you won’t get any sympathy from the hulu support people if you have trouble.

AT&T’s next highest package supports 1,500 Kbps.  The clips in hulu’s HD Gallery are encoded at 2,500 Kbps.  They recommend a download bandwidth of over 3,500 Kbps to stream those.  You don’t see those speeds until you get into the Pro or Premium DSL plans.  I think cable modems are comparable.

If you’re not sure what your bandwidth is, Google “bandwidth test” and a bunch of free bandwidth tests will pop up.