Flaming Pablum

5 Things I'm Thankful For

With the strangest Thanksgiving in recent memory looming, it was a tense day here at Chez Pablum. The kids were bickering about invasions of their respective spaces during Zoom classes. I was on edge in the dining room with several important work projects pending, and playing a frenetic game of beat the clock. I regret to say that at certain points, voices were raised — and not for the purposes of extolling each others’ merits.

But, with the overriding themes of Turkey Day in mind — those being gratitude, family, humility and generosity, not gluttony, sloth and football — I thought it would be prudent to take a moment to reflect on the things I am indeed thankful for this year.

(5) I am very thankful for my network for friends who’ve kept in touch, kept me laughing and kept me arguably sane in the past several months. Whether online, on the phone or over a couple of socially distanced beverages, their counsel, good cheer and friendship has meant the world to me.

(4) I’m very thankful that while we’ve both been crazy busy, my wife and I have remained gainfully employed during this whole experience. We know some folks who haven’t been as fortunate in that capacity, and we genuinely thank our lucky goddamn stars that we’re still working and earning.

(3) Despite my grumblings at the top of this post about how we’re all getting on each others’ nerves, I feel entirely grateful to have been able to spend so much time with my family throughout this whole experience. Being that both of my kids are teenagers now, this would normally be an era wherein they’d be going well out of their way to spend as little time with their annoying parents as possible. Periodic lack of elbow-room notwithstanding, it’s been a lovely period of familial solidarity. I’m also crazy lucky to have the single greatest spouse in the world who puts up with my big-mouthed neuroses and abject idiocy.

(2) I am very grateful that no one in our immediate family has taken ill or worse during this period. I have a few friends who were infected a few months back, and another writer pal of mine who was just diagnosed with a positive. By all accounts, it’s a harrowing ride, and I am very thankful the bug hasn’t paid any of us a visit, as yet. That could all change of course, but so far, so good.

….but most of all, I am thankful that….

(1) DONALD TRUMP LOST THE ELECTION AND WILL SHORTLY BE VACATING THE WHITE HOUSE — POSSIBLY IN HANDCUFFS — ALONG WITH HIS SHITTY FAMILY AND HIS ABJECTLY FATUOUS ADMINISTRATION. IT’S OVER. HE LOST.

But back on the slightly less provocative subject of this coming Thanksgiving, my family and I will simply be celebrating this one at home here in the city. I will be on mashed-potato detail, being that it requires more blunt-force physical maintenance over nuanced culinary finesse.

My friend Dana posted the below on social media earlier this week, and I think it hits all the right notes.

Be safe. Be smarter and have a happy Thanksgiving.

So, I’m going to flip the Thanksgiving narrative, starting now…

...I am thrilled to eat Thanksgiving dinner with my immediate household this year.

We are going to cook the hell out of the meal.

We are going to get dressed up.

We are going to meet up with our families on Zoom.

We are going to talk about gratitude and all that feel-good Thanksgiving crap.

We are going to drink plenty.

We are going to play awesome music that makes us want to sing, and we will sing.

We are going to meet up with our friends on Zoom and play Cards Against Humanity and drink some more if we want.

We are going to eat dessert, and plenty of it.

We are going to go outside and look at the sky, howl at the moon, light a fire and think of all the people we love, looking at this same night sky on this same night.

We are going to shine thanks into every cell of our bodies, and out from there, impossible as it might seem.

We are going to celebrate like we don’t spend every hour of every day in the same household.

We are not going to regret, be sorry, apologize, be upset because we can’t do what we usually do.

We are going to thank the Hell out of this Thanksgiving.

That’s my declaration of Thanksgiving.

So, suck it, COVID. Suck it, 2020.

So We're Told This is The Golden Age

Alright, first I need to dust off this old warhorse once again.

When was the last time Bono squeezed into that denim vest, ya think?

Anyway, moving on. Updating from last year:

What did you do in 2008 that you’d never done before?  I ate some escargot. I wasn't aware of it at the time until someone pointed it out ala "those aren't mushrooms, by the way." Maybe I just resented the ruse, but I didn't enjoy it.

Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I don't believe I made any last year, but I'm making some for 2009. We'll see how long I keep them.

Did anyone close to you give birth? Yeah, a couple of friends.

Did anyone close to you die? Yes, I had two great-aunts (my grandfather's sisters) pass away within a few weeks of each other. Sad, but they both lived very full, rich, long lives.

What countries did you visit? Just this one.

What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008? Greater job security.

What date from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory? March 24th. That was the first day at my then-new job.

What was your biggest achievement of the year? Every day has been a bit of an achievement this year, frankly.

What was your biggest failure? Still not being on staff anywhere.

Did you suffer illness or injury? To augment my Tinnitus, Benign Positional Vertigo and Oral Allergy Syndrome, I was diagnosed with Ocular Rosacea, which makes my face look like the surface of the angry red planet of Mars. Hooray!

What was the best thing you bought? Just this past weekend, I bought m'self a pair of big, clunky, black Doctor Marten shit-kickers, and I'm well pleased with them so far.

Whose behavior merited celebration? My wife and children, whose tireless love and support kept me happy, hopeful and alive.

Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? Sarah Palin, John McCain, Rupert Murdoch, Sumner Redstone, Bernard Madoff

Where did most of your money go? Schooling for my little ones.

What did you get really, really, really excited about? The original line-up of Killing Joke's triumphant return to New York City in October.

What song/album will always remind you of 2008? I don't know if it'll always remind me of 2008, but easily my favorite album of the year was The Golden Hour by Firewater.

Compared to this time last year, are you: Happier or sadder? 2007 was a very sad year for me, so I'd say I'm happier today than I was at this time last year, but I'm still not quite singin' in the rain.

Thinner or fatter? Invariably fatter.

Richer or poorer?  I believe we're all a bit poorer now, no?

What do you wish you’d done more of? Earning

What do you wish you’d done less of? Worrying 

How did you spend Christmas? Blissfully at home in NYC with my wife and children. Perfection.

Who did you spend the most time on the phone with? I have no idea.

Did you fall in love in 2008? I was already in love. Still am.

How many one night stands in this last year? No, I'm very happily married.

What was your favorite TV program? "Top Chef"

Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? Sarah Palin

What was the best book(s) you read? I hate to admit it, but probably Mike McGonigal's book on My Bloody Valentine's Loveless album for Continuum's awesome 33 1/3 series. I'd love to cite something lofty and highbrow here, but I'm just not that guy. Sorry.

What was your greatest musical discovery? I sadly haven't done much musical discovering lately, but I did discover how nice a club Southpaw in Brooklyn is. I saw Firewater there this summer and it was just a great place. I'd gladly go to another show there.

What did you want and get? A job! In fact, I had two offers in one week (I took the one with benefits).

What did you want and not get? A job with full-time employee benefits.

What were your favorite films of this year? I can't remember the last "new" movie I went to, honestly.

What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I had a fairly low-key celebration, and I turned 41. Ugh.

What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Well, Obama winning was certainly a major relief and hugely gratifying. Dick Cheney being brought to trial for war crimes would certainly make me smile.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008? "It's a Punky Midlife Crisis!"

What kept you sane? Who said anything about me being sane?

Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? They can all go to hell.

What political issue stirred you the most? The horrifying prospect of Sarah Palin holding public office of any kind

Who did you miss? Raven

Who was the best new person you met? I met several great new people via the job

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008. Two-year-old boys are way more difficult than two-year-old girls.

Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: 

Everybody say 
Hey, clown 
We're gonna put you in the ground 
We had it all and then you threw it all away 
Everybody say 
Hey, clown 
You turned our happy upside-down 
We're gonna burn your flag and piss on your parade 

- "Hey Clown" by Firewater

And now, a quick word from Oliver:

Untitled

Let's Raise Our Standards, Shall We?

Look, I love the Sundance Channel. I think their programs are great. And I love their 'Iconoclasts' series especially, but riddle me this, Batman: On WHAT FREAKIN' PLANET can Cameron Diaz be legitimately considered an 'iconoclast'? Ooh yeah -- pretty blonde girl with a nice figure becomes major Hollywood star. Yeah, she really bucked the system there, didn't she. A real trailblazer.

Do give me one break.

Save Galveston

The wife and I are sitting here watching the news of Hurricane Ike and the prognosis for Galveston isn't good. As I mentioned earlier today, I have a hard time picturing this placid haven away from the hustle and bustle under such catastrophic circumstances. Ike is slated to officially make landfall within the next two hours. I pray that the place survives. In tribute, herewith some pics from our lovely stay on its comely shores earlier this year. I only wish I'd taken more pictures of its streets, its shops and its people. May they all still be intact tomorrow.

I Dislike Ike

 

 

While I make no secret of my overarching disdain for the "red states" (or, really, anywhere in the U.S. that isn't New York City), I have to say that my heart truly goes out to the good folks of Galveston, Texas today as they prepare to suffer the wrath of Hurricane Ike. I've actually spent a decent amount of time in Galveston (most recently this past December), and found the place to be lovely and the people to be warm and friendly. It's hard to imagine that peaceful, picturesque area my family vacationed in suddenly under such terrifying siege.  The city has famously survived such calamities before. Here's hoping Ike runs out of steam before too much damage occurs.

La Recherche du Squelette du Lapin

In October of 2003, when my wife was pregnant with our first child, we flew over to Frankfurt, Germany to attend the annual international book fair (Peggy was employed by a publishing house at the time, handling foreign rights). From there, we boarded a train to Paris to spend a few days living in a small studio apartment on the Isle St. Louis. With parenthood looming, we thought it was high time to get some quality vacation time in, correctly assuming that it would be our last opportunity for a long while. Having only fleetingly visited Paris way back in 1987, I was very excited to once again stroll the streets of the fabled City of Light.

When I informed my friend Sam that I was going to Paris, he made a special request. There was an item that his brother had procured in a curious Parisian shop several years earlier that Sam deeply coveted. Upon hearing that I was going to be spending a week there without any fixed plan, Sam wondered if I could do him a favor and try to attain that same item for him. Of course I said yes.

The item in question was an old educational poster, specifically a biological chart entitled "Squelette du Lapin" ("Skeleton of the Rabbit"). He described it in detail, and it sounded just weird and creepy enough that I almost started to want one for myself. Evidently, Sam's brother had picked it up at a spot called Deyrolle, located at 46 Rue de Bac. That was all Sam knew. I accepted the mission. At the very least, I figured, searching for this enigmatic item at this mysterious address would show me a side of Paris that trumped the usual tourist jaunt. I vowed to Sam that I'd prize the poster for him by hook or by crook.

When we arrived in Paris, it was more dizzyingly beautiful than I'd remembered from my last visit there as a petulant twenty-year old. After getting settled in our new digs, Peg and I set about tracking down this fabled shop to fetch Sam his poster.

Unlike the orderly grid that comprises the map of Manhattan (I have no sympathy for anyone who gets lost here), Paris is a hugely confusing amalgam of passages, alleys, nooks, places, boulevards and ever-widening arrendisments. Even while outfitted with a map, a relatively keen sense of direction and a rudimentary understanding of French, my wife and I had a devil of a time finding this place. After an endless morning of searching, we eventually stumbled upon it, to find it -- well, looking rather dormant. 

I peered into the front window, and the ground floor looked worryingly bereft of life or activity, and the door was locked. Were we too late? Were we too early? Did the place no longer exist? With nothing to lose, I rang the doorbell and waited (while Peg snapped the photo above to prove to Sam that at least we'd tried). We were about to walk away when I spotted a matronly woman descending a flight of stairs in the rear of the ground floor. She came to the door with a disgruntled look and a mouthful of food (clearly, I'd interrupted her dejeuner). I stammered out my reasons for disturbing her in my mangled pigeon-French, and she sniffily motioned with her head to the stairs she'd just walked down. Peg and I stepped inside. This was indeed Deyrolle.  

As I climbed the stairs, I was greeted by an intimidating menagerie of majestic beasts. Lions, tigers, polar bears, elk, cheetahs and zebra seemed to poke out from every corner in a collection that handily rivaled the statliest museum. As I swiftly deduced, Deyrolle was a taxidermy shop, featuring roomfuls of exotic fauna, lovingly preserved and disarmingly lifelike. It was like wandering around the Adams Family's house. I was surrounded on all sides by antlers, feathers, fur and bones. It was somewhat magical.

After fruitlessly trying to find "Squelette du Lapin" on my own, I sheepishly asked a shop assistant to help me, now feeling very self-conscious about my crappy French. After detailing the poster as best I could, the assistant looked at me blankly and walked away. I wasn't sure if she went to go look for it or that I'd simply bored her to distraction. Feeling like a chump, I went to go look at a wild boar's tusk, wondering what I'd tell Sam when I got home. Moments later, the assistant re-appeared holding a thin tube. She opened the tube and unrolled a large poster. At last, I stood face to face with "Squelette du Lapin" in all its unsettling glory. It was indeed a thing of beauty (although Peggy begged to differ).

"C'est vrai! C'est vrai!" I happily barked. The assistant slipped the poster back in the tube, and we settled up. A more confident traveller might have made arrangements to have the shop mail the poster home, but after all the searching and doubt, I figured that I'd be better off handling the transport myself. As such, "Squelette du Lapin" left Deyrolle with me and sat next to my suitcase for the rest of the trip.   

After our lovely week on the Isle St. Louis, Peggy and I packed up our things and left the tiny studio apartment. The trip back to the stunning Paris airport (really, it's a sight see) was arduous. Both Peg and I had typically overpacked, and  we'd collectively procured enough new items to make our respective loads heavier. As part of the post-September 11th "new reality," our bags were thoroughly searched before we were allowed to board any planes. I unspooled "Squelette du Lapin" for an indifferent security guard who seemed more distracted by and needlessly suspicious of the antique colander my wife had bought at a tiny shop ("it's a cooking device," I implored). But, they let us go and we flew home.

A couple of weeks later, we had dinner with Sam and his own pregnant wife Christine in their Brooklyn home. Sam was practically teary with gratitude upon the sight of "Squelette du Lapin," and I was honestly sad to part with it. But it felt good to fulfill my good friend's request and tell him the odd story of how I managed to find it for him. Mission accomplished. A few months later, Christine gave birth to a their son Felix, right around the same time that Peggy gave birth to Charlotte. Sam and his little family ended up re-locating to Portland, Oregon. "Squelette du Lapin" now hangs in a frame in their living room, doubtlessly scaring Felix out of his little gourd at every turn.

Five years later, I was paging through the latest copy of Vanity Fair last weekend and stumbled upon an amazing article (written by a captivating individual with the nom de plume, "Olga of Greece") all about Deyrolle. Apparently, this curious shop that still captures my imagination all these years later is considered something of a treasure to the Parisians, and quite rightly so. I was sad to read, however, that Deyrolle actually suffered a serious fire earlier this year, losing much of its gorgeous stock to the flames. Encouragingly, moves are currently afoot to restore Deyrolle to its previous glory. Click here to read the full extraordinary story. 

I look forward to the day when I return to Paris with Charlotte and Oliver. I'd love to go back to Deyrolle and show my children its many curious wonders. And if I still can, I'm going to pick up a copy of "Squelette du Lapin" for myself.

Here's a fleeting glimpse of Deyrolle's remarkable second floor as it was.

You Know What They Say About Guys With Big Feet, Right?

Apropos of absolutely nothing, I thought I'd revisit the fabled Patteson Bigfoot footage. I especially like when they slow down the film and reverse it, making it look a bit like he's moonwalking. Enjoy

Three Years of Pablum

Flaming Pablum is three years old tonight. 

Just Because

Rest in Peace, George