Morning with ramos gin fizzes at the legendary carousel bar at the monteleone hotel. Rad.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Straight Up AND On the Rocks
I have to send out some props to my man Master mixologist Chris McMillian who just created magic for me and Markie L. last night. I had remembered my cocktail obsession as we were about to head out after Jazzfest last night, and did a quick series of searches and requests for info in NOLA about classic cocktails.
Here's what I love: I can actually send emails to people I've never met asking them for some recommendations for places to go in a city that I'm unfamiliar with. How cool.
So the upshot: We headed over to the Ritz-Carlton because based on this page, I thought that to be the home of cocktail master Chris. Well, he'd moved on. We got expensive, extremely average martinis from the plebe behind the swanky bar and then I pressed for info: turns out Chris had moved shop to the Pere Marquette, just a couple of blocks away. Thinking I was wearing Markie (hell, anybody) thin, I puppy-dog eyed him and asked if we could just real quick swing by, in case this guy was there. Thank god for the both of us, Markie was happy to oblige.
So we rolled into Pere Marquette, and up to two stools at the trés moderne bar and I shook the hand of a cocktail celebrity, who was about to be seriously in the weeds. (more on that in a minute) Chris seemed honestly pleased to see us, and as I stammered out an explanation for two dudes knowing his name, he smiled and informed us that we were "drinkies," the term coming into currency for people who are curious and interested and thirsty for expertly crafted cocktails. And holy shit, y'all. Did we get that in spades.
I cannot express the joy, gentle reader, of being placed in the hands of a master mixer, whom I'm calling "Chris" like we go way back, and letting him put drinks in front of us. Not drinks we ordered, mind you, but drinks he was choosing.
Oh. My. Godz.
Look at this picture. This was a religious experience. Chris was so nice and so happy to have appreciative hands on the shimmery flecked glass bartop. He mixed up delight upon delight, even catering to Markie's predilection for vodka and mine for gin. He hand-crushed ice. He muddled fresh ginger. He garnished with blackberries. He put mother-fuckin' blueberries on a swizzle stick, okay??
I can't remember the names of what we had, but here's the crazy part: Into "round two," the bar started heating up some. Chris was flying around, a couple Lesser Beings were also back there, slinging beers and Boring Drink Requests, and Chris actually apologized to us, saying that he'd really like to chat, but that a party was beginning … um, for Stevie Wonder. Hooo-kay.
Markie and I were stationed square in the middle stools at this glorious bar, with a god of a barkeep, and apparently Stevie Wonder was eating next door and due in within a few minutes. Another round please, Mr. McMillian.
I won't say the ensuing time was a blur — exactly — but the short version is Markie and I each had four of the most spectacular cocktails I do ever EVER expect to have, made with gusto by a master. I took the initiative a couple of times with some casual folks getting drinks to grab them forcibly by the lapel and hiss into their ears "You may not know this, but this guy is one of the greatest bartenders in the United States." Meaning: Please take your bourbon and coke and GO.
And then in came Stevie Wonder. That's right. First his band, many onlookers and then Stevie Mother-Fucking Wonder. He was ensconced at a vaguely cordoned-off table a couple dozen feet from us. And what do you do? It's Stevie Wonder over there, and Chris McMillian behind the bar. Me and my old mate are, as I said, sitting square in the middle — kings, really.
Eventually, after being rebuffed at attempts to shake Stevie's hand (would have helped, I'm sure if Markie and I were hot 20-something betties), we decided that — master mixologist aside — we simply were flirting with disaster to have MORE THAN four lightning power cocktails. So we bounced on out and into the French Quarter.
Drunk, yes. Happy, absolutely. The French Quarter, I find to be a good place to breathe. It's so easy just to amble along, looking this way and that aT the mayhem, the cheer, the flesh, the revelry, really. And that's what we did some..
We decided to wander over to this one place, because Markie (always on top of the billings) knew that P-Funk was playing there. We arrived close to the end of their set, and were told that the cover was still $35. So we walked down the street, circled around and came back. In a golden moment, I breezed in the "out" door and Markie didn't. I felt bad, but — Bam! — there was Parlament-Funkadelic quote-unquote tearin' the roof off and how could I leave? Besides they were going to be done in five minutes, was the word. Five minutes later, I hustled towards the door to see if my old pal would ever forgive me, and happily bumped into him, having sweet-talked the door into a $5 cover. THAT was a feat, not me slipping in when nobody was looking.
Dag, what a night.
Here's what I love: I can actually send emails to people I've never met asking them for some recommendations for places to go in a city that I'm unfamiliar with. How cool.
So the upshot: We headed over to the Ritz-Carlton because based on this page, I thought that to be the home of cocktail master Chris. Well, he'd moved on. We got expensive, extremely average martinis from the plebe behind the swanky bar and then I pressed for info: turns out Chris had moved shop to the Pere Marquette, just a couple of blocks away. Thinking I was wearing Markie (hell, anybody) thin, I puppy-dog eyed him and asked if we could just real quick swing by, in case this guy was there. Thank god for the both of us, Markie was happy to oblige.
So we rolled into Pere Marquette, and up to two stools at the trés moderne bar and I shook the hand of a cocktail celebrity, who was about to be seriously in the weeds. (more on that in a minute) Chris seemed honestly pleased to see us, and as I stammered out an explanation for two dudes knowing his name, he smiled and informed us that we were "drinkies," the term coming into currency for people who are curious and interested and thirsty for expertly crafted cocktails. And holy shit, y'all. Did we get that in spades.
I cannot express the joy, gentle reader, of being placed in the hands of a master mixer, whom I'm calling "Chris" like we go way back, and letting him put drinks in front of us. Not drinks we ordered, mind you, but drinks he was choosing.
Oh. My. Godz.
Look at this picture. This was a religious experience. Chris was so nice and so happy to have appreciative hands on the shimmery flecked glass bartop. He mixed up delight upon delight, even catering to Markie's predilection for vodka and mine for gin. He hand-crushed ice. He muddled fresh ginger. He garnished with blackberries. He put mother-fuckin' blueberries on a swizzle stick, okay??
I can't remember the names of what we had, but here's the crazy part: Into "round two," the bar started heating up some. Chris was flying around, a couple Lesser Beings were also back there, slinging beers and Boring Drink Requests, and Chris actually apologized to us, saying that he'd really like to chat, but that a party was beginning … um, for Stevie Wonder. Hooo-kay.
Markie and I were stationed square in the middle stools at this glorious bar, with a god of a barkeep, and apparently Stevie Wonder was eating next door and due in within a few minutes. Another round please, Mr. McMillian.
I won't say the ensuing time was a blur — exactly — but the short version is Markie and I each had four of the most spectacular cocktails I do ever EVER expect to have, made with gusto by a master. I took the initiative a couple of times with some casual folks getting drinks to grab them forcibly by the lapel and hiss into their ears "You may not know this, but this guy is one of the greatest bartenders in the United States." Meaning: Please take your bourbon and coke and GO.
And then in came Stevie Wonder. That's right. First his band, many onlookers and then Stevie Mother-Fucking Wonder. He was ensconced at a vaguely cordoned-off table a couple dozen feet from us. And what do you do? It's Stevie Wonder over there, and Chris McMillian behind the bar. Me and my old mate are, as I said, sitting square in the middle — kings, really.
Eventually, after being rebuffed at attempts to shake Stevie's hand (would have helped, I'm sure if Markie and I were hot 20-something betties), we decided that — master mixologist aside — we simply were flirting with disaster to have MORE THAN four lightning power cocktails. So we bounced on out and into the French Quarter.
Drunk, yes. Happy, absolutely. The French Quarter, I find to be a good place to breathe. It's so easy just to amble along, looking this way and that aT the mayhem, the cheer, the flesh, the revelry, really. And that's what we did some..
We decided to wander over to this one place, because Markie (always on top of the billings) knew that P-Funk was playing there. We arrived close to the end of their set, and were told that the cover was still $35. So we walked down the street, circled around and came back. In a golden moment, I breezed in the "out" door and Markie didn't. I felt bad, but — Bam! — there was Parlament-Funkadelic quote-unquote tearin' the roof off and how could I leave? Besides they were going to be done in five minutes, was the word. Five minutes later, I hustled towards the door to see if my old pal would ever forgive me, and happily bumped into him, having sweet-talked the door into a $5 cover. THAT was a feat, not me slipping in when nobody was looking.
Dag, what a night.
Classic Cocktails FOUND.
Photo_05
Originally uploaded by mrtoastey
Chasing bartending legend Chris McMillian around NOLA. Finding him at Pere Marquette! This is the Bramble. Yup!
A Good Night Out
It's at first hard to understand why my old pal Mark Lindley and I remained ensconced at the bar while most everybody else in the place was converging around Stevie Wonder's table, a few yards away.
How's that for a lead? It's true, even.
Friday in New Orleans — Jazzfest was quite a bit more fun than I'd imagined it would be. Let me explain a minute — not always super-fond of gigantic crowds, drinking heavily and potentially being rained on, just to see — from a distance — some music dude or another.
I gotta give Jazzfest the props, though. Mostly, I think that would be due to a dizzying array of stages and an equally dizzying array of food. This is no cotton candy and hot dogs affair. I had jambalaya, gumbo, crawfish bread — hell, I had something called alligator pie. In fact, in the last two days, I've eaten a few critters not normally on the dinner table, if I include the jambalaya from thursday night with rabbit.
Back to jazzfest, though — beautiful mild day, rolling clouds, not too much sun. I love cloudy weather. It rained some. And while I'm not unaware of the irony of this kind of statement, I would say that this was the kindest rain I've ever seen. Almost as if the NOLA skies were gently saying "Okay, now, we're gonna rain for a minute; just a little drizzle, but we're gonna pour some, too, so why don't you shuffle on over and get under that tent? Okay? All right then… Like a kindly old uncle. " This kind of rain was a delight not a bother. Some sprinkles, while jumping up and down up front with several thousand others to the sights and sounds of Trombone Shorty. Got offered (and accepted) a slug of Bulleit from a fellow reveler who cheered me as a "jazzfest virgin." Thanks, doll!
Much wandering with and without Johnny, Susan, and Markie — later, we waded in and out of the the epic sea that was about to become Stevie Wonder's first Jazzfest appearance since the early 70s. It was too much, considering the many other stages, and the mounting trails of proto-mud that were forming. The crowd was vast and friendly. Jazzfest is full of a bunch of friendly faces.
Later, I decide to brave Stevie's latter set with a classic concert move: the out-flank. Johnny and Susan and I parted ways at the Jazz tent, and I wound around behind the stage and then filed in from the side, behind a string of troopers, and we wove and marched into at least 10,000 people, with many of them nicely to our rear. I wound up about 50 yards from the stage, center. Not bad, not bad.
Stevie Wonder, living legend. After directing an audience singalong of "Ribbon in the Sky," he lit the place up, under occasional showers, with "Don't You Worry 'Bout a Thing" (a personal favorite, yay) and then burned it down with "Sir Duke," among others. Great joy, indeed. There's something wonderful, and I suppose there's always been something wonderful, since Woodstock and much further back — about being square in the middle of 10,000 revelers. It's not the thing that I often aspire to, but united under the banner of "Signed, Sealed, Delivered," by this giant of feel-good music… well, it was hard not to, you know?
Later, back at the hotel, I discovered our decent internet signal and decided to try to scare up some "classic cocktail" New Orleans, a la my cocktail nerd blogging haunts. You know — a place where we could get a drink in a glass, instead of a plastic cup. Let's remember: The Museum of the American Cocktail is in New Orleans, right? Boy did we succed in spades. And eventually, this led to our sitting feet away from Stevie Wonder.
More on that next time.
Tearin the Roof Off
Yeah its p-funk. Woot.
At about 2:30 am last night, Markie and I were staggering around, headed past this club where the cartoon gods of funk, Parlament - Funkadelic were — of course — tearin' the roof off the Muthasucka. And we slipped right in. Okay, I did. Markie had to pay 5 bucks. For the closing 5 minutes of legendary funk? Priceless.
At about 2:30 am last night, Markie and I were staggering around, headed past this club where the cartoon gods of funk, Parlament - Funkadelic were — of course — tearin' the roof off the Muthasucka. And we slipped right in. Okay, I did. Markie had to pay 5 bucks. For the closing 5 minutes of legendary funk? Priceless.
Friday, May 02, 2008
"Don't You Worry 'Bout a Thing"
Stevie Wonder plays to at least 10,000 under sprinkly NOLA skies and it's pretty damned glorious. Jazzfest 2008.
NOLA with the gang
Waitin for the moredock dynasty on the corner of bourbon and canal. Jane fone home!
JagerHaus, y'all!
Donny at jagerhaus in new orleans on conti. Coffee studel beer and more. I'll be back here!
Thursday, May 01, 2008
"this is your captain speaking"
My captain--. I'm "front row joe" on american eagle, headed outta lex to new orleans for jazzfest! I have to say front row is alright. I may go for that again next time!
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
The Coup @ FreeKY Fest
some video of The Coup's hot show at WRFL's FreeKY Festival.
Lots of pictures at http://www.flickr.com/groups/freeky
please post yours, too!
Monday, April 28, 2008
FreeKY Fest Set-up
Holmes and Lloyd made WRFL's FreeKY Fest bright and loud.
If you took pix (or video) please join/post to the festival's Flickr Group.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
How happy am I to have Kakie Urch on my radio show today? So very happy.
This week on Trivial Thursdays, I'm delighted to have as my guest, my old friend and WRFL's patron saint, Kakie Urch. Kakie is the one who set the wheel's a-turning with her 1985 Kentucky Kernel column and then was the station's 1st Music Director.
This is a don't-misser this Thursday from 7-9 am. Tune in at 88.1 FM or listen online. We're gonna have a lot of coffee and talk a whole bunch.
Pictured: The original RFL dames: Amy Boucher, Kakie Urch, Rhea Perkins, Diane Pipes. Circa 1987.
WRFL's 20th Anniversary: It's All Around You
Are you staying abreast of one of lex's most show-filled weeks, happening right now? It's WRFL's 20th Anniversary celebration and there are shows in town EVERY NIGHT commemorating 20 years of alternative student-operated radio.
The culmination of all this is FreeKY Festival, THIS SATURDAY, an all-day music festival downtown on top of the transit center, High and MLK streets.
Full details can be found at www.freekyfest.com and www.wrfl.fm
TONIGHT!
WRFL & The Void Skateshop (518 E. High St) present a benefit featuring performances by some of Lextown's lately heros Jason Zavala, Ben Allen, and Eyes and Arms of Smoke.
Expect some deeply-thunk DIY balladry, crunch and drone.
Show starts at 8pm. Cover charge: $3
HOPE YOU CAN MAKE IT OUT, ALL WEEK LONG!
Celebrate 20 years of alternative radio all week long with WRFL!
PS: Please share this info with all your social network friends
Check back for daily updates!
Monday, April 21, 2008
WRFL 20th Anniversary in FULL EFFECT
It's game time, folks — Amazingly, Radio Free Lexington has been on the air since 1988, 24 hours a day, non-stop. In celebration of that, please join us all week long for WRFL Alternative Music Week featuring all kinds of bands, shows, art and so forth. And especially come out, come out for FreeKY Fest, which happens all day long this saturday, April 26.
For my part, this week on Trivial Thursdays, I'm delighted to have as my guest, my old friend and WRFL's patron saint, Kakie Urch. Kakie is the one who set the wheel's a-turning with her 1987 Kentucky Kernel column and then was the station's 1st Music Director.
This is a don't-misser this Thursday from 7-9 am. Tune in at 88.1 FM or listen online.
As we celebrate this wonderful occasion, old-school WRFL deejays are pouring into town, some having been away for 20 years. You can catch some wonderful sets by these WRFL originals, too. Here's the schedule (verbage courtesy of Unca Bill Widener):
For my part, this week on Trivial Thursdays, I'm delighted to have as my guest, my old friend and WRFL's patron saint, Kakie Urch. Kakie is the one who set the wheel's a-turning with her 1987 Kentucky Kernel column and then was the station's 1st Music Director.
This is a don't-misser this Thursday from 7-9 am. Tune in at 88.1 FM or listen online.
As we celebrate this wonderful occasion, old-school WRFL deejays are pouring into town, some having been away for 20 years. You can catch some wonderful sets by these WRFL originals, too. Here's the schedule (verbage courtesy of Unca Bill Widener):
Monday, April 21- Eli Riveire and Kakie Urch 2-4pm..the soft-spoken Sweetheart of the Airwaves takes on the Mouth of the South!
- Chuck Clenney and David King 6-8pm - the Poet of the Streets faces off with the "King" of Pop!
Tuesday, April 22 - Ben Allen and JJ Haws 2-4pm - pretty boys make graves! Dig, Lazarus, dig!
- Brian Manke and Dave Schatz 8-10pm...uh...dang, I dunno WHAT to say about this one!
Wednesday, Apr. 23 - Jack Kirk 6-9am - the Ripper flies SOLO!
- Shanna Sanders, Patrick Smith and Mark Tarter 8-10pm - I can hear it now: "Children, have you heard the Good News about CHARLIE?"
Thursday, Apr. 24 - Kakie Urch on Trivial Thursdays with Mick, 7-9am...more jaw-jackin' than the last Flair vs. Funk bout! It'll be a SLOBBERKNOCKER!
- Dave Condra and John Clark 4-6pm - Seventies Reviver vs. Seventies Survivor! There's gonna be BLOOD ON THE TRACKS!
- Ross Compton and Will Burchard - "to all the dj's i've loved before" tribute to the lost/middle-generation of RFL djs (early/mid/late-90's folks).
- Larry Sykes and Matt Dacey 10pm-Midnight - will mettle be proven by METAL?
Friday, Apr. 25 - Jeremy Russell and Scott Abraham-Lakes 10pm-Midnight - forget the music: just listening to these two TALK will melt your bubbling fudge mind!
- Subbing on The Trip - Heather Kennedy and Tom McMurdo 6-8pm - the Love Nest Killers bring their crusade of carnage to the heart of the Bluegrass!
- Robert Beatty and "Mad" Mike Connolly subbing for "The Uncle Bill Show" 8-10pm - the Sons of the Pioneer show the Old Man how it's done!
Saturday Apr. 26 - Amberly Warnke, Neil Glass and Ian Christy 6-9am - it's a Three-Way Dance for the cartoon crown!
Monday, April 14, 2008
WRFL original Jack Kirk on Trivial Thursdays this week
Well, folks, it's comin' right up: WRFL's 20th Anniversary, that is.
Amazingly, Radio Free Lexington has been on the air since 1988, 24 hours a day, non-stop. In celebration of that, we're having a week of fabulousness featuring all kinds of bands, shows, art and so forth. Please plan on coming out, especially for FreeKY Fest, which happens all day long on April 26.
Leading up to the festivities, I'm delighted to feature a couple of WRFL's original staffers on Trivial Thursdays. First up, Mr. Jack Kirk, WRFL's original Production Director and the creator of some of the station's most beloved promos.
Jack is in town from his home base of Chicago, and will be my guest this Thursday from 7-9 am. Tune in at 88.1 FM or listen online.
Amazingly, Radio Free Lexington has been on the air since 1988, 24 hours a day, non-stop. In celebration of that, we're having a week of fabulousness featuring all kinds of bands, shows, art and so forth. Please plan on coming out, especially for FreeKY Fest, which happens all day long on April 26.
Leading up to the festivities, I'm delighted to feature a couple of WRFL's original staffers on Trivial Thursdays. First up, Mr. Jack Kirk, WRFL's original Production Director and the creator of some of the station's most beloved promos.
Jack is in town from his home base of Chicago, and will be my guest this Thursday from 7-9 am. Tune in at 88.1 FM or listen online.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Cool painted rain barrels
Amazingly cool rain barrels in Lexington. Hoses run down into a junction that fans out to assorted watering devices.
Saturday, April 05, 2008
IMDB, no way!
Well, I don't do it hardly ever, but I googled myself. Actually, I've been reading assorted A.J. Jacobs pieces and he talks about being obsessed with googling himself, and between that and procrastinating my taxes, I googled myself. And by and large, got what I expected; nothing much in the way of surprises, except--
A listing in the Internet Movie Database! Huh? How's that?? It was due to working on a documentary about horse genetics for National Geographic Television. It's not much but it kind of made my day! Extra thanks to producer Susan Steinberg!
Note to little-people friends of mine: I will still talk to you.
A listing in the Internet Movie Database! Huh? How's that?? It was due to working on a documentary about horse genetics for National Geographic Television. It's not much but it kind of made my day! Extra thanks to producer Susan Steinberg!
Note to little-people friends of mine: I will still talk to you.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Knob Creek Machine Gun Shoot
I was in Winchester a few months ago and struck up a conversation with these two women at a diner who were fondly reminescing about the annual Knob Creek Machine Gun Shoot. I apparently added it to my calendar, because, looks like it's about that time. A part of me can't imagine going to something like this but then the photographer in me longs to get some images like this.
Anybody game? It's April 11, 12 & 13 this year. Here's their website.
Anybody game? It's April 11, 12 & 13 this year. Here's their website.
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