Mardi Gras Lexington 2006 Pix are up!

mardi gras cowgirl princess
Originally uploaded by mrtoastey.

We had a fabulous time this year, of course…

If you weren't there, check out some pix from the 3rd Annual Lexington Mardi Gras Parade, brought to you by a lot of cool people and one super cool dance studio and a rare-form collective.

Click on the Mardi Gras Cowgirl to see the entire set on Flickr.

Where's my right-hand megastore?

Things ain't looking so good from my morning trip to the 'Burbs.
I try to stay away from there, but I'm as much of a megastore shopper as anybody. The thing is—I know I got my dog food somewhere before Petsmart, but where? Okay, I didn't really go to PetSmart. (and I'm certainly not going to link to them.)

But there's this new thing that I had to try: Bought some blank DVD's at BestBuy.com and specified in-store pickup. 'Cause, y'know, I've got 30-plus blank DVD's but I need 50 more, right now… especially since P2P may get sued out of existence soon. I've got to get the entire Planet of The Apes oeuvre downloaded, right?

By the way, late morning is definitely the best time to cruise into suburban hell, I confirmed. Lots of people are either safely tucked away in their workplaces, or maybe they're at home planning the big afternoon foray to the mall.

So there's this quickie mart out there, and there's a sign out front that says "Red Bull in stock, or yours is free!" Excuse me? What a fabulous tribute to the brain-rotting effects of too many Raging Bulls, eh? Just tell me where to go to get my free Red Bull that you don't have in stock!

Next up, could it be a new Walgreens? Sure, pard'ner! One of the great surreal late-night spots (just visit any Walgreens at 3:30am and not see some kind of weirdness, while toe-tapping to the most neutralizing muzak mixture ever to dribble into your ears). The thing is, this sign: "Coming Soon! Walgreens!" is about a hundred yards down from—wait for it—a Walgreens. I guess this ones going to be even super-er than its predecessor.

I have to take my fair share of the blame for this bloat. Fleeing back downtown, I privately lamented the lack of a mega-grocery on the right-hand side of the road; Because I coudn't be bothered to —you know—turn left to go to the mega-Krogers and just rolled on by.

Am I Working in a Department Store?

Sometimes I feel like I'm working in a department store.

It's all this damned techno that I listen to. Actually, I'm typically at home working in my pajamas; But by the sound of it, you'd think I was working in some windowless cubicle at Barney's or something. I can't figure it out—You know the old saw: "Television will rot your brain;" Personally, I'm more concerned about Hotel Costes, Cafe Del Mar, and a jillion other fluff electronica series that I —for some reason—continue to put on as my work soundtrack. The other day, I was on the verge of apologizing to Lucy.

If you're married and/or work at home, you could find yourself in the same boat: "Honey, I'm sorry about all the electronica…"

Truth be told, there is a reason, or at least, an excuse: I'm gradually aspiring to be a snobby art gallery DJ. With some success, too. So I act like I have to listen to this stuff, y'know, to keep up. I'm still embarrassed sometimes.

One of the finest (non-electronic) tracks last year was The New Pornographers' "Sing Me Spanish Techno." Now, nobody knows what Carl Newman is talking about at any given moment; even he claims the lyrics are frequently non-narrative. But I like to think that song refers to a couple of friends: One hates techno, the other loves techno. His favorite (of late—because it's always 'of late') is Spanish techno, in particular. His techno-hating friend is put out over the fact that all techno sounds roughly the same and —it's not even music, right?— issues the challenge: "Okay. Sing me 'Spanish techno.'" Exactly.

Somebody get me an electric guitar, quick.

full disclosure: this post written while "grooving" to the sounds of Man Ray Vol. 4

Good Day, Sir/Madam…

Woot is the hilarious "one day, one deal" site where there is ONE THING for sale every day. Each day, a different thing. The real charm of Woot, though, is the spectacular copy-writing each day for the particular deal. Somebody has a great deal of fun with this (actually sometimes extending to an ad-hoc song connected with the product).

This one made me laugh out loud today, as virtual art imitates virtual con-artistry—a parody of the myriad of "help transfer my fortune out of [insert destabilized African country] and you'll be handsomely rewarded" emails.

Have a read, have a laugh and check back daily for more Woot fun!

You Fortune Awaits…

Hey! Here's your chance to make a difference in somebody's life, and find your fortune, too. You can do both of these things by leaving your own message in a Fortune cookie, courtesy of Enid's Discovery, a "community-driven artwork" on display at LexArts Gallery in February 2006.

Lucy and Mick's World Wide Wed

Welcome, friends to Lucy and Mick's World Wide Wed!

I just put up this new blog, which is located at lucyandmick.com. This is where all our matrilicious plans will be conveyed to you, gentle reader! Salut!

Bringin' home the Lucite.

Friday night was The Addys, which I admit kind of snuck up on me. By Friday, after 5p, I'm usually ready to hit the couch, and I wasn't exactly wild about the prospect of gettin' fancied up and heading to the Marriott for intense schmoozing… especially consider that the invitation said "black tie" and my attire was…somewhat less than formal. I know enough to know what black tie means, but had my doubts about whether people would actually embrace this. (As the hour approached, I was really mostly interested in conclusive evidence that I wouldn't be the only one who wasn't wearing black tie. At one point, I had this idea to tie a black shoe lace around my middle finger in case anybody asked me where my black tie was.

Anyway—long story short, to quote my brother—I wasn't the only one (though most definitely in the minority), and I won two Addys!

I was looking for an image online of the li'l Addy trophy to illustrate my glory, and was surprised to not be able to find one; But I did find this image from somebody else's Addy victory that was close enough to mine that I got a few laughs out of just "marking it up."

By the way, I had fun— I was worried that it would be a stiff drag, but I forgot that I love to schooze as much as anybody, and did my fair share. My favorite thing (that wasn't me winning a Gold Addy): trying to wheel and deal with a couple of adjacent tables to get them to swap our table a bottle of (gross) blush wine for their seemingly untouched red wine. No dice, but some good laughs.

Congrats to my other KET peeps, who helped the agency take home a decent handful of awards. Also to Elevation Studios, who mopped up the place for a second year in a row.

June 11, 2006!

It's official, friends! Lucy and I are getting married on June 11, 2006, in the glorious heart of the Bluegrass!

More info coming soon!

LMA WLAC - Past Champions

While it is true that I'm at this moment working on a couple of articles for the Kentucky Cattlemen Association, that seemingly coincidental activity does not diminish the fact that auctioneering is one of the greatest and strangest abilities of human beings. And I found a web site where you can hear audio of World Livestock Auctioneer Champions for the last 30 years. If you're looking for a little pick-me-up, this is it, pardner!

Murphy and the Greenhouse

Murphy and the Greenhouse
Originally uploaded by mrtoastey.

I'm having some kinda fun with my Holga camera. My second expedition with with Mr. Murphy. Click on the picture to read some more about the process. Viva, La Holga!

My new favorite toy (camera)

Sparkle and bowls (Holga)
Originally uploaded by mrtoastey.

One of my greatest xmas 2005 delights was the Holga camera that TT gave me! Yay! A Holga!

I've wanted one for years now, but the desire has never manifested itself in me bothering to actually get one. I mean—it's not like they're expensive—I could have bought one. The thing is, I think I'm having more fun with it on account of somebody having given it to me. If I'd bought it for myself, it might well have ended up on my "stack of cool things." Truthfully, it might still. (Hello, short attention span)

But right now, I'm having some fun with it. This picture—of TT's kitty Sparkle— was taken a few minutes after the unwrapping, and followed by a trip out to the country and to one of my fave places, The Pet Cemetery.

Sparkle, of course, is quite alive in this picture. And I feel alive as a photographer with my new toy camera!

T'anks, Tessa!

Look y'all! It's Lila Frances, just arrived!

jennifer and lila
Originally uploaded by mrtoastey.

Jennifer and Travis had themselves a critter! Finally!

The adorable and serene (at least during our visit! ;-) Lila Frances Robinson arrived here on Planet Earth this Saturday morning, January 7th, at about 9am.

Click here to see more pictures!

Feeling silly?

Ever wonder about the logistics of dealing with an eighth of a ton of Silly Putty? Ever wonder what occupies the minds of young internet professionals? Check it out.

I could tell a million stories about "The Cruise."

Once I went on a cruise with 3 friends. I always theoretically disdained the idea of a cruise. So cheesy, so tourist-y, so…well, you get the idea. But the fact remains: I went on a cruise with three friends and we had some crazy fun.
The thing I loved was this: We went on Holland-America because it's all oldsters. Fuck Carnival or any of those lines that cater to "young people." I don't want that. I want:

• no screaming kids (or screaming anybody, really. Except me—I reserve the right to be the Screaming Guy)
• lots of quiet oldsters
• many many interesting conversations with above-mentioned oldsters

I may have to come back with some cruise stories. but the thing I was waxing about today was the prat fall. For some reason, I was addicted to this around the time of my cruise. Probably because I was in the company of Jason, a friend and one of my favorite physical comedians of all time.

Anyway, the ship, of course, was gi-normous. And around its hulking gi-normousity, my favorite activity, undoubtedly, was wandering with a drink in one hand and a smoke in the other. Looking for a piano. And there were pianos all over the place. My dream come true. Even now, I want a drink and a smoke and a piano just thinking about it. (these days, I'll have to settle for a drink—some eggnog—since I quit smoking and my piano's in storage.) The decks and decks and promenades and promenades…these ships are very nearly cities on the water. Most everywhere—especially the lido deck—there were miles and miles of teak loungers, exactly like this.

And we would just be walking around—like ya do— and I would come across a run of unoccupied teak loungers. And the temptation would be irresistible to… TRIP AS HUGELY AS POSSIBLE ACROSS AS MANY CHAIRS AS POSSIBLE.

I would approach my target casually, continuing the conversation at hand. Uh-huh…oh, sure! Hey, I totally agr—blam! crash! tumble! And then there I was lying across the top of of pile of wrecked deck chairs.

We'd set them back up—kind of like bowling pins—and continue on our way.this was a nearly sure-fire recipe for nearly deadly peals of laughter.

And so, today's lesson: the Prat Fall. A wonderful way not to take yourself to seriously (because you will be laughed at by strangers), and entertain others at the same time.

Inspiration and recollection credit to the great Jules— Vettro, Professor Emeritus.

From the archives: Mick's Big Fanboy Moment

One the main purposes for my blogging is to chronicle some of the more memorable moments in my life; There are lots of stories "upstairs," but getting them into written form is a task that will likely never approach being completed. Nonetheless, I'm making an effort. Here, for instance is a story that I stumbled across while trying to make some sense of the piles of paper around my office.

(from an email to Jennifer and Jill—Oct. 8, 2002)

Oh, man-- this is funny. Last night, I actually kind of had dinner with Victoria Williams!

Sort of.

She played at the Kentucky Theater, see—and I was so excited, I went down there several hours early and sat in the theater, working on my laptop, mindin' my own beeswax..... waiting for…my moment. The time came, and I basically schmoozed my way into her presence and ended up escorting her to a nearby chinese jernt and sitting and chatting with her while she sucked down some hot and sour soup. Just me and Vic. She was mighty funny in a "bless her heart" kinda way.

For instance, she got some tea. It was about to be served up in a styrofoam cup, and she politely and somewhat anxiously smiled and asked if there was another kind of cup. The owner—an Asian gentleman who was almost certainly perplexed by this request— said that was all they had. But she coaxed him into letting her use his personal ceramic mug, volunteering to wash it in exchange for the privilege.

Kind of a dream come true really, you know, as fan boy moments go. She was exactly how I imagined her to be: Sweet; more than a little dizzy; kind and courteous to all around her. An authentic person. She and husband musician Mark Olson live in the Mojave Desert. Also, neither she nor Mark seem fond of hair brushing.

The Harmony Ridge Creekdippers played on the Woodsongs Radio Hour. They did some cool stuff, including "Moon River" and before the last song she said "I said I'd play a request for somebody" and played "Love." That would be a request for ME. :-) I asked her, as we were leaving the chinese joint if she'd play a song for me.

I am such a goober. But what a big thrill for me. I'm such a lover of her voice and songs and general demeanor. and I really REALLY don't act like this anymore. ;-)

a couple of addendums:

1. After the soup and before the show, I dropped her off at the dressing room, and she said, "thanks, Mitch" and I gently corrected her and that led to one of my favorite party questions: "When people get your name wrong, what are the most popular variations?" Then I backed up, thinking out loud: "Oh, maybe that doesn't happen to you, since you're kind of a celebrity. <duh>" Anyway, she laughed and said people got her name wrong all the time, but truth be told, I was so happy to have gotten a laugh out of her, that I didn't hear what she said. 20 minutes later, Michael Johnathan, that stooge, calls her "Victoria Wilson," into a live mic, not once, not twice, but thrice
2. Lucy and I had barely been going out for any time at all at this point. And when I called her in a delighted panic to let her know that Victoria Williams was in town and I was going on a special errand to get soy milk for her, Faced with this side of my personality, Lucy was the portrait of well concealed trepidation. To this day Lucy insists, of VW: "She thought you were a stalker." I have a picture of Vic and I that Lucy took and—okay— she does have a strange look on her face. Like, maybe she thought I was a stalker.

Egg Nog of the Stars

I don't know where I got the recipe.

It's been lying around for at least a year, maybe two. I think it either came from ReadyMade or Real Simple. But it purported to be The Finest Eggnog, and I had to give it a whirl. The kicker for me was the last bit of the recipe: Refrigerate for three weeks.
Three weeks?! Jeez, that better be some pretty damned good eggnog.

Well, December has snuck up and I nearly panicked when I noticed the recipe collecting virtual lint in my Palm pilot. I finally got out today and got the incredible amount of booze required, and the other things and got home and set to work in the lab—I mean—kitchen. Temporary kitchen, that is. (Fortunately, the eggnog does not require an oven, as do not any of the dishes that Lucy and I cook in our "temporary kitchen.")

Mixing, mixing, separating eggs, mixing assorted dairies… mixing assorted boozes…

So I got it all together without any curdling (a great mystery to me, that curdling), and decanted it for it's sleepy incubation period. But you know, I couldn't resist it. I had to try it. And I did. And verily and forsooth, it is suh-lammmin'! And that's after only 10 minutes!

By Christmas time, it'll be good enough to slay. I mean "sleigh."

Then we'll see what makes Santa jolly…

Oh, you want the recipe? Here y'go…

The Finest Eggnog

• Separate 12 eggs in 2 cups of sugar
• Dissolve egg yolks until creamy
• Add 1/2 pint of light cream
• 1 quart of milk
• 1 fifth of bourbon
• 4 oz. Meyer's Dark Jamaican rum
• 4-8 oz of cognac (use good cognac)
• A pinch of salt
• Refrigerate for 3 weeks.

The Power of Lint

Well, I threw away my lint ball today. Really.
Yes, I have—had—a lint ball. I'd been collecting lint since learning—at some manic point in the past, during one of my many minor obsessions—that one could make paper out of dryer lint. I mean—hell—some people make sculpture out of lint, so maybe I could eventually, you know, make some paper. So I started saving for the magical day when I was going to make dryer lint paper; and I guess I've been saving for three years. But I tossed it in the mind-draining Bassett house moving effort. So I didn't make the paper.

That was hard to accept, like so many moving moments. A few weeks ago, I tried to purge my file cabinet of "unnecessary things." Wow, that was anxiety producing. Just like moving. For me the challenge lies in confronting so so many things that are reminders of forgotten passions, imagined yearnings, intended explorations. I've got jillions of 'em. I want to do everything. Everything. And I've got scraps of this or that for the special occasion, should it arise ever. Hence, the lint.

I like the cartoons where the protagonist has a tiny devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other; Me, I've got just one familiar, one who's only sentence is: "you might need that!" Whether it's some lint or some running shoe inserts or a box of bolts. Really, these are all things that I have had to ponder—seriously ponder—whether to keep or not.

I guess it's liberating, too, though. "Okay—he's liberated by throwing away a ball of lint. Check." you might be thinking. But mostly it's the occasional realization that I can come up with more passions and yearnings, and it's likely some will be even more gratifying than making paper out of lint. So I'll just continue clearing house and wait for the next truckload.

PS: Fortunately, I found at least one person on the net who cares about lint as much as I (thought I) did. I pass the crown, then…

Morning reading

Morning reading
Originally uploaded by mrtoastey.

Look closely: This is an actual candid of my sweetheart having breakfast, reading a picture of the side of a box of cereal.

Hello, is this hilarious to anybody else but me?

I'm Engaged—Film at 11.

Well, people, I'm engaged.

Pictured is my mom's Star Sapphire, which I gave to Lucy—via waitress—at the Causeway Café at Wrightsville Beach, NC on the day after Thanksgiving 2005. I love Miss Lucy and certainly have a lot to be thankful for this year. If you want to see pictures and words, here are pictures and words. Extra credit to Wyn and Lolli who correctly sussed what the Sapphire entries on my blog must mean.

By the way: We don't know The Date. Deal with it. ;-)

BUT we both love our many glorious friends, far and wide, and look forward to coming up with a special occasion for us all to convene.

The Golden Age Star Sapphire

The star sapphire is that variety of sapphire in which, when the stone is cut and rounded off horizontal with the dome of the crystal, the light is condensed across the three lines of crystalline interference. Three cross lines produce a star which moves as a source of light, or as it is moved from the source of light. Star sapphires very rarely possess the deep blue color of the fine blue sapphire; generally the color is somewhat impure, or of a milky-blue, or else a blue-gray, or sometimes almost a pure white. The blue-gray, gray, and white stones frequently show a much more distinct star, possibly from the fact that there are more inclusions between the layers of the crystals than with the darker blue stones, as it is the set of interference bands that produces the peculiar light.

The great Oriental traveller, Sir Richard Francis Burton, had a large star sapphire or asteria, as it was called. He referred to it as his talisman, for it always brought him good horses and prompt attention wherever he went; in fact, it was only in those places where he received proper attention that he would show it to the natives, a favor they greatly appreciated because the sight of the stone was believed to bring good luck. The fame of Burton's asteria travelled ahead of him, and it served him well as a guiding-star. De Boot, writing in the seventeenth century, states that such a stone was called Siegstein (victory-stone) among the Germans.

The remarkable asteria, known as the "Star of India," in the Morgan-Tiffany Collection in the American Museum of Natural History, has a more or less indefinite historic record of some three centuries, but after its many wanderings it has now found a worthy resting-place in the great Museum. Its weight is 543 carats. (The subject of the origin, development and reform of the caratweight has been fully treated by the author in the Trans. of the Soc. of Min. Engineers, 1913, pp. 1225-1245, "The New International Metric Diamond Carat of 200 milligrams.")

The asteria, or star sapphire, might be called a "Stone of Destiny," as the three cross-bars which traverse it are believed to represent Faith, Hope, and Destiny. As the stone is moved, or the light changes, a living star appears. As a guiding gem, warding off ill omen and the Evil Eye, the star-sapphire is worn for the same reasons as were the oculus mundi and the oculus Beli. One of the most unique of talismanic stones, it is said to be so potent that it continues to exercise its good influence over the first wearer even when it has passed into other hands.