Sunday, May 22, 2005

Getting the Most Out of Your Down-Time; plus, Why You Guys Are The Best

This has been a good weekend, full of tasty treats of all different sorts. 

Saturday I got up early and took a run in the park, along the broad avenue of JFK out to the headquarters on Stanyan, and then back up the other side.  It was a bright sunny day, the roses were in full bloom as I ran their gauntlet into and out of the park, and it just got better from there - positively euphoric, by the time I was done.  This gave me lots of energy when we went to Clement Street again for some basic household shopping.  (Noteworthy message carved into now-dry sidewalk concrete: “CONSUME (/) BE QUIET (/) DIE”.  It’s a comfort to have these words permanently scraped into my consciousness now.) We had a great stroll, getting Bird’s custard at Haig’s and green papaya at May Wah and a few savory morsels along the way (the dim sum lady suggested the puffy nuggets and they were phenomenal, with morsels of roast meat and veggies inside a sweet crispy dough pocket - piroshki meets donut, or piroshknut, which strikes me as clumsy, but anyway they were tasty). 

Actually, the Bird’s Custard tin from Haig’s deserves a second look: I usually get this product by the boxful of paper envelopes, but this time I got a big round tin.  It has instructions for two alternative ways of cooking it: in the micro, or on the hob.  Yes, it’s hob cooking at its best, nobbing and nailing its way into your heart.  It describes itself as being served in millions of homes “where proper custard is at the heart of a good pud.” This is probably another one of those places where a charming britishism just never quite makes it across the pond.  Heh.  Pud custard.  Heh. 

Anyway, then we hit Kamei for some housewares.  These included an excessively cute little plastic bowl bearing the phrase, written small across the lip, “All the monuo on coppe food.” No, that’s exactly what it says.  There’s a picture of a monkey at the bottom of the bowl, if that helps at all.  Keep in mind, this product was obtained at a shop where they also sell the JUMBO TOOL CROCK.  I almost bought it just for the packaging and promotional material.  “Don’t give me your Jumbo Tool Crock.” “You can ram that up my Jumbo Tool Crock.” It’s got a million uses, even if you only invoke it by name!  (warning: keep your jumbo tool a safe distance from jumbo tool crock.)

Saturday night, then, we watched a few videos.  We wanted something light, so I suggested the first film of the Decalogue, which was beautiful and haunting and depressed the hell out of us, so thoroughly that we thought watching an episode of Six Feet Under on dvd would be more entertaining, which it was, but it was still pretty depressing too, so then we watched some Robot Chicken and Futurama and got our heads cooled down and went to sleep.  It was a really good Robot Chicken, too.  The one with the monster in the next bathroom stall?  Oh man.  They took the genre to a whole new level with that one. 

And this is as good a place as any to inject some random commentary: last week I also got to see The 39 Steps at a friend’s place.  It’s a short movie, but crammed with good stimulating plot.  It’s Hichcock coming at you straight from the dawn of modern filmmaking, bringing visionary enthusiasm to what was still a new medium.  The film is taut and exciting, but clearly dated in its approach to the subject, which I found fascinating on a secondary level.  From the cubist montage at the beginning of the movie, to the frank undercurrent of sexuality throughout the film, to the primitive iterations of classic set-ups like “the chase across the moors” or “fording the raging rapids,” I was constantly confronted by the gulf between moviemaking then and now.  The perfect example of this, is the scene with the escape from the train onto the Forth bridge, an engineering marvel of the 19th century of which very few americans are even aware today - an image that, when it was first filmed, depicted a work of art and a triumph of spirit, but that now evokes little more than a dingy industrial viaduct.  The 39 Steps is not a perfect movie, but it’s damn good filmmaking and it’s a piece of cinema history you owe yourself to get to know. 

Sunday - today - we got up early and went to the gym, starting with a nice run around chrissy field; the workout, once I got back to the gym itself, was vigorous - but brisk, giving us enough time to get cleaned up and pulled together before going out to a brunch at Mitch and Catharine’s place, which was entirely delightful.  It’s been too long since we’ve done a 5 hour brunch, and this one had the critical hallmark of rolling courses - bagels into frittatas into fresh house-made pizzas into grilled brined chicken legs.  Also, Sha and Helena had brought an amazing fruit salad, and someone else brought a platter of pan dolces that I found totally irresistable.  Dude!  Custard-filled pan dolces!  It just doesn’t get any better.  And then again: We brought the amazing pineapple bread pudding.  I was going to post the recipe but I seem to have done so already so I’ll just back the hell off, but the pud was damn good, to coin a phrase - people were psyched.  Anyway we ate really well, saw some old friends and made some new ones, possibly, and now it’s sunday night and things are wrapping up for a new week - one which I am confident will be fraught with challenges and opportunities I have yet even to comprehend, much less undertake.  So that’s a good time for me to just give a bit of a shout out. 

I’ve met some of the coolest people in the world through this website, and I am proud to call many of the very coolest of these my friends.  I wonder sometimes how well a friend I met through this medium could really know me, or how well I am understood by someone I’ve barely met in person at all.  Let it be said then, here and now by me, that the people who have become my friends here have been exactly the friends I’ve needed, and I am truly grateful to them for their wisdom and support and all-around decency, in the best possible way.  But special notice, I think, has been earned by Sawni, who sent me a gorgeous compass that has given me and Kelly both much comfort in the past few weeks; and Mia, who created a tiny “pocket shrine” for Cosmo, filled with special images of him and his adventures that she’d culled from this site.  It was a labor of love, and one that has deeply touched Kelly and me both. 

Guys, you completely rock.  Thanks for helping us through this time of transition.  Friends like you really help things fit back together again.  We really appreciate it. 

To conclude, here’s a photo of our guardian sculpture, Rico Ghanean.  He lives with us and keeps an eye out for us.  The way I’m feeling toward you good people today, I wanted him to be looking out for us all as this week begins.  We may just be in for more than we had bargained, but at least we have each other.