Morning Latte - Bring Back the Words

It's almost time for my morning coffee (usually about your lunchtime) but I'm powering through getting one more thought down..."on paper" as we used to say.

I'm thinking about the skit on some old SNL show with Farrell & Oteri as morning talk show hosts like Regis and fill-in-the-blank-blonde-du-jour....I believe the skit was called Morning Latte.

The talking heads' monitor goes out and they go from preternaturally chipper and overly enthusiastic to savages. Lord of the Flies-style. Completely unglued because "the words have gone away....why, why - why have they gone away?!"

I think they even try burning sacrifices, desperately hoping to "bring back the words, bring back the words..."

Well, those of you who know me, may have a notion where this is leading..

As I struggle to make a living as a freelance writer (part of the explanation for my absence here the last few days) I laugh about the "stars" who cannot get up and do a show - even if it's a talk show - w/o the writers to give them words.

We value the celebrity, but forget that the entertainers are not the clever people that make us laugh, they are (for the most part) the ventriloquists' dolls. The words come from someone else.

If I had a nickel for every "opportunity" to write for someone for no pay - I could afford to write for someone for no pay...

But the New York Times has a "Cheer up scabs - this is an opportunity!" piece running today. That should kill the folks who want to paint the NYT as nothing more than a liberal rag...and just a few more parting thougths:

1. Below the Line - is an industry term for all the folks employed in trades related to the film trade: grips, makeup, cleaners, trailer and storage rentals, think of the tons of people who are out of work by choice or by layoff.
2. As the studios spin their message: "We don't know about this scary new world of the Internet, who can tell how to calculate profits? how to divide them? we need a study!" Take a look at t his video - pretty disgusting when you think of the main arguments put forth by the studios about why they can't pay writers a share of new media profits.
3. If you want to see some "person on the street" quotes (maybe yours) and get a peek inside The Business of the Movies, check out one of my new gigs. Click here: BoxOffice.com On the Street. Or you can see my by-line on the new Sidney Lumet movie, Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, click here. Truthfully, I'm not sure but I think we're supposed to be boycotting movies right now.

Other stuff:
I've also begun a sports blog The Sixteenth Minute - and have some interesting related projects cooking (so's to speak) in that arena. Stay tuned for those. Take a look and drop a comment letting me know what you think.

Food?
On the way to see Sweeney Todd, we had dinner at Troquet. I asked for the Sweeney Todd Pot Pie special, it got a laugh...and dinner was great. More soon on that, but short word is this: familiar dishes executed really really well with just enough imagination that no one will be scared.

Enthusiastic staff and terrific food, great wine list. I'm going to go back for a wine/cheese flight and will report more, hopefully soon.

Another great meal with friends we brought to Gourmet Dumpling. If you missed my earlier exhortation: GO. See "Eats, Shoots, Leaves."

Also go see Wicked at the Opera House. Fab. Trying to think of what really emerald green thing I can make to eat while I try mastering "defying gravity!" (the f*n theme song for any woman my age staring down the next birthday..)

y que mas....what else you ask? What will you see when I bring back the words?
I've been working on a travel/restaurant guide comparison piece; holiday pieces; how to do a cheese plate; beer tasting; kitchen appliance innovations; phew...just too much on my plate.

That, for a writer, is a good problem to have.

La Verdad - Otra Vez

We decided to celebrate our friend's birthday at La Verdad. She introduced me to fish tacos. She shares a Southern Califronia history with my husband. When I introduced them to each other they were fast and instant friends. It was she who married us. Linda ("beautiful" en Español, and in person) is her name.

Now, neither Linda nor Caleb are too easily impressed by stars. I guess it's the SoCal thing. I have never been, either, but for different reasons. More times than I can count, I've walked right past someone only to have a companion say incredulously, "Don't you know who that was?!" Oh? So? I never was a gawker.


So I might be forgiven if I had a mini-star-struck moment tonight. I was, as we say, verklempt. We were seated right near two of my heroes of the season, Dustin Pedroia (an incredible rookie year and near perfect fielding, never mind clutch big hits) and Mike Lowell (RBI record for 3B franchise history; and a calming presence for the team, that sly twinkle in the eye...)

I love the way both these guys play, their professionalism, their passion. I discovered the joy of baseball through my husband and it's been an absolute thrill for me these past few years. I could not be more excited about this Red Sox team, though the team that won World Series on my honeymoon three years ago will always be special.

While Linda laughed at me, we debated what body part I might ask them to sign, I tried not to stare intrusively or idiotically. I think my mouth was closed. My poor husband tried to hide behind his menu and begged me to get a grip. Alas, no sharpie. Signature would wash away. What's plan B...?!

Linda suggested I walk over and say thanks for the great season. But I didn't want to impose on their dinner. I asked our server (a lean, mean, yoga machine) over. We'll call her "Cupcake." Maybe we could send them a round of drinks? But what to send? They didn't seem to be drinking anything. We decided on a round of shots for their table, good Tequila. Alas, the drinks were declined with gracious thanks. "No Tequila before a game."

That left us with shots untouched. We drank to the birthday girls (Linda and Cupcake) and the boys of summer (Mike and Dustin). So Cupcake, next time you see Mike and Dustin, tell them thanks for me, won't you?

And my thanks to you Linda for being such a good friend all these years. Thank you Caleb for putting up with me and teaching me about baseball (and for dinner!) Thank you to all the Red Sox for so many great games and for working so hard to give us this much fun.

To tomorrow!

[Ed. Dustin wins AL Rookie of the Year. Read about it here.]

Schadenfreude - My Lunch in the Clink

A little history and etymology to begin...

1851 - The Charles Street Jail is opened in Boston.

1895 - The word “Schadenfreude” is coined from two others: Damage + Joy. Merriam-Webster defines it as “enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others.” Gotta love those Germans!

1973 – The Charles Street Jail is closed. For those unfamiliar with Boston history, the Charles Street Jail was notorious for such inhumane conditions that prisoners filed suit and a judge promptly agreed and ordered it shut. It was a common occurrence for guys to plead guilty to heavier crimes just to get transferred out of Charles Street. They might've been tough guys, but they didn't care for the legendary, prehistoric-sized rodents and bugs.

2007 – Clink, the penitentiary-themed restaurant, and the Liberty Hotel property are opened. (Get it? Liberty? Clink? The bar is "Alibi".)

Admittedly, I used to be a defense attorney, now a “recovering attorney.” I may be tainted by some of those really un-fun "houses of correction" where I went to meet my clients.

But I can be fun. Really, I can. Then, over my heirloom tomatoes and fried Ipswich clams, I looked at the busboys (Latino) with numbered shirts (how clever!) and my spirit fell. I guess my face did, too as my friend quickly told me that she heard there was a staff meeting where employees were allowed to vote on whether or not to go with the prison number theme shirts.

I can just see the chipper HR gal and her buddy corporate marketing chick (both Ivy-educated, of course) eagerly explaining how terrific this whole theme will be to the staff.

I'm a bus boy, I need work, what am I gonna say: “I'm sorry that kind of offends me...” Oh yea, that'd work out just fine.

I kept thinking how uncomfortable it would be to be working all day looking through actual prison cell bars (they left them on, how cool!) in that numbered shirt. How many of the staff have family or friends for whom this theme is too close for comfort? How many people, like me, picked up one of the serving bowls and thought, looks like a stainless steel cell toilet. Maybe none. Maybe.

I had lunch there about a week ago and despite catching up with my girl friend, running into another old friend, having some good food (small portions), a nice glass of wine (prices quite dear), I just feel depressed over the memory of the meal. Not what you want guests to remember.

Schadenfreude all around

Given the prevalence of lowest-common denominator entertainment, or “reality TV”, I shouldn't be surprised. The suffering, or at least the anxiety, of others is offered up for our regular viewing pleasure. This has been true ever since entertainment execs found that schadenfreude sells, and even better, they don't have to pay writers.

Sleek as it is, this jail-themed restaurant leaves me cold. It's kind of like rich celebrities wearing trucker hats and t-shirts proclaiming their “white trash” status. Just not sure that we're laughing with, rather than at, those less fortunate.

The utterly dead flower arrangement at the hostess stand did nothing to put me in a more lively or carefree mood, either.

I used to think I was a cool hipster. Now, I think I'd rather stay home and have a Spam sandwich in front of the TV. Just hope there's something good on...

For an interesting perspective on the Jail, see Kevin Cullen's piece in the Globe.