How's tricks?

Lately, when I say this (usually over IM) to folks, I'm met with confusion or bemusement. I was beginning to think that this is another one of my quaint regionalisms. But apparently it's just a bit rare and archaic:

From the "Hello, Howdy, Hi" section of Listening to America by Stuart Berg Flexner (Simon and Schuster, New York, 1982): "Hello, Howdy, Hi, or words to that effect are used by most of us several times a day.Surprisingly enough, 'hello' didn't become a truly common greeting until the mid 1860s. It comes from 'holla!,' 'stop!' (French 'ho! + la, there), used to attract attention, hail a coach, ferry, etc. 'Hi' is just a variant of 'hey!'; it had been used as a shout to attract attention for over 500 years before we began using it as a greeting in the 1880s. 'What's up?' dates from the 1880s, too.'What do you know?' 'What do you say?' ('whata-ya know,' whata-ya say') and 'How's tricks?' date from the mid 1920s."

Elvis Costello was on the lam?

I don't like how he looks with red hair, either.

The Great Boston Lobster Bake

Forget about the Boston Tea Party -- there are tons of steamed lobsters right outside my office at this very moment. Where are the vats of drawn butter?

The most excellent Hook family owners vow to rebuild after blaze destroys landmark seafood business. And I believe they will, and quickly. Better, stronger than before even. Behold, the next-generation bionic lobster company!

What particularly saddens me at the moment is that something "devoured 60,000 pounds of lobster...", and it wasn't me.

I'm guessing arson. That lobster pound sat smack in the middle of some prime waterfront real estate, in the hottest development area in town. And the Hooks have fought to stay there before.

There's another possibility, though, one too terrible to believe. Could it be my fault? Could this be another one of my mystical powers?

You see, I recently gave up lobster. (Yes, I know that report says I can have it as often as three times a month, but considering the massive quantities I've eaten in my lifetime, I figure I'm probably already way over my personal quota. I mean, it's not like the mercury ever leaves your system.)

So, I give up lobster, and then my fave lobster place burns to the ground. This would be merely a coincidence, if it weren't for the Raven bar in New York. I used to celebrate my birthday at the Raven every year, and there were many other messy celebrations. But right after I accepted the job in Boston and prepared to move, the Raven burned down and was shuttered.

Honestly, what kind of superpower is this? Nothing I love can live on after I leave it? (wait, don't ask any of my ex-boyfriends about that one...)

Well if the Raven has hopes to rebuild, then maybe we can still hold out hope that the Hook family will persevere. In the meantime, any intrepid souls with scuba gear in the mood for some smoky lobster bisque?

Ice ice baby

There was a terrible ice storm in Boston Sunday night. Yesterday, the city was a sheet of ice. Advance salting did little to help the situation.

Yesterday morning I took out the trash in my pajamas and rubber-soled loafers. I was very careful. It was very very icy, despite the salt my neighbors had already thrown. I made it out to the curb no problem, but on my return, just as I reached my front steps, I fell.

I fell like a cartoon character. My feet went straight out from under me, my body went horizontal in mid-air, and I fell parallel to the ground, hitting my entire right side all at once -- shoulder, elbow, hip and knee. My hip, being the widest part of my body, and also being exposed by the by the boxer shorts bottoms on my pjs, bore the brunt of the impact:

As bad as this looks, I was lucky. I didn't hit my head at all, nor did I put out my hand to try to stop my fall, which probably would have broken my wrist. That said, it still hurts a lot, so if you see me crying, now you know why. Be nice.

Delectable Lucca | The New York Times

My parents are about to come back from Delectable Lucca. I'm not ready to go back yet, after my cousin died last year, but I'm really missing it.

While I was there last year for the funeral, I went to La Mora, and it was transcendent. I took copious notes, hoping to pitch a story. But on the day I came back, this story had just run in the Times, so, not so much for the story pitching.

By the way, it's all lies. Lucca is a terrible terrible town, do not go there to visit under any circumstances. Stick to the tried and true Siena and Florence, you know you'll be happier somewhere else....
;)

In other news, anyone have any good ideas on how I can get me a gig that will let me split my time 50/50 between Lucca and Somerville?

Why living in Seattle wouldn't be that bad either...

Trooper stops naked couple in SUV

Please note that Washington State does not feel that embracing while driving is, in and of itself, gross -- because they're not 4th graders up in that state house. However, drunken driving is TOTALLY gross.

Also? I'm going to Seattle in two weeks, so I'lll report back on any drunken nudity I find there.

(have you all missed me? My absence is totally legitimate, I assure you. But rather than explain myself, for now I'm just going to keep reading the paper for your benefit.)

Music fan gets Popped; and Winchester's not that bad...

As Boston.com put it, "Shoving match disrupts opening night of Boston Pops." Apparently someone doesn't take too kindly to being asked to keep it down. Reminds me of that time I went to a movie, and the woman in the seat in front of me sat on the back of her chair, instead of the seat, just to push it down onto my knees! Why? Because the guy sitting next to me had asked her to keep it down...

Anyway, it was the Pop-Ed feature today, and the comments on the message board are hysterical (if you ignore the assholes like bakala_2000). This might be my fave, if unfair, post:

Cynthia and moi witnessed the whole shameful event. It all started when the heathen sitting in the less than desirable seat in the balcony, must have been a Yale man, accidentally spilled his glass of Dom Perignon onto the blazer of the gentleman sitting next to him. He said, "Excuse me sir", to which the gentleman with the wet blazer replied, "Sir! I demand satisfaction!" He then stood up and scolded him severely! Well, Cynthia almost fainted at the sight of such roughhewns and I summoned the chauffer and we were whisked back to Winchester. I must say it will be some time before we dare to go back to the Pops again!

Seriously -- we're not all like that in Winchester.

Hair tips for girls

I'm at a party where I know no one. A college party, no less, in a neighborhood where I used to teach junior high (probably while these kids were still in elementary school, if I'm lucky). A punk rock basement band college party, and I'm wearing a velvet skirt and no leather or visible piercings. I'm just there to keep a friend company, and we're only supposed to stay for a minute.

Not really equipped for the mosh pit, I go out on the deck for some air. Damn I want a cigarette, but no way am I going to bum from these kids. I lean against the doorframe and observe.

"Excuse me, I know this is really strange to ask, but... How do you get your hair to do that? It's so gorgeous!"

Okay, I do have fabulous hair, but you wouldn't think the punk rockers would appreciate it... So I tell the pretty blond in the orange hoodie my secret for five-minute hair fabulousness:

1. Flip head over and dry as quickly as possible
2. Comb out snarls.
3. Put in a dozen velcro rollers, the kind with metal on the inside so they heat up (cheap at CVS)
4. Blast for a minute or two with the hair dryer on high heat.
5. Get in car, drive to party, remove before exiting car.

She laughs. "wow, if I'd known it was so easy... I never do anything with my hair; I still have semen in it from last nigh-- oh, did I just say too much?"

"Hey, whatever works!"

Now we've bonded. She introduces me to all her friends, and within minutes I've rubbed a few shaved heads and learned how to open a beer with a lighter. A cute guy named Bubba has his arm around my waist while I smoke a cig he bummed for me. The kids in the yard below us are wailing a hard-core a cappella version of some Journey song, and all is right with the world.

Rawk out

Just got my little Boston-area concert update (maybe not so surprisingly, I don't actually get it from my employer...)

Anyone interested in checking out any of these shows?

• Rhett Miller, Friday, Mar 9, Paradise Rock Club
  
• Pete Yorn, Monday, Mar 19, Avalon
  
• The Decemberists, Friday, Mar 23 & Saturday, Mar 24, Avalon
  
• Lucinda Williams, Saturday, Mar 24, Orpheum Theatre
  
• Bloc Party, Wednesday, Mar 28, Orpheum Theatre
  
• Aqualung, Tuesday, Apr 17, Paradise Rock Club
  On Sale Sat, 3/10 at 12 pm
  
• Shawn Mullins, Tuesday, May 15, Paradise Rock Club
  

Bostonist is spying on me

I am a bad blogger.

On February 1, I posted the following to a mailing list I'm on, regarding the Mooninites:

The best part is that they'd been up already for a few weeks, but someone only noticed them yesterday, triggering the panic.

Honestly, even if our noble leaders (dammit, I used to be a fan of Mumbles Menino, never thought he'd be so knee-jerk idiotic) do succeed in getting Turner to "reimburse" the $750K in "expense" that the stupid stupid law enforcement folks incurred upon themselves (god, I used to love Boston cops too, nice old-school central casting Irish types, call you "sweetheart" as they give you directions and such, dammit this sucks), and even if Turner agrees to pay it, which they surely will...

That's damned CHEAP for all the coverage and bonus advertising they've been getting. This is better than 30 seconds of Superbowl time, and what's the rate for that this year? 2.4 MILLION per spot? $750K for days and days of coverage, introducing Frylock to whole new audiences... I wonder what the ratings will be like this week.

Right after I mailed that out, I considered cutting and pasting it into a blog post, but then had actual work to do, and never got around to it. Then everyone and their mother was writing about it, and it seemed like old news, so I didn't bother.

But then last night, Bostonist posts a follow-up story about the Turner pay-out, and they make the very same point that I did about the free advertising. Now, I know that my point wasn't particularly profound, but here's the thing -- they linked to the very same two-year-old CNN story about Super bowl ad rates that I referenced!

Had I actually posted it here, I would have thought they were loyal readers and were lifting off me. But I didn't post, so I can only conclude that someone over there must be subscribing to the same obscure discussion list in New Jersey!

Serves me right for being lazy.

1-31-2007 Never Forget

Some of you heard me raging about our terror-fueled folly last week. I could go on about how I'd feel safer if our law enforcement showed a bit of judgment, but I think I'll just let the Voice speak for me for now...

In an increasingly customizable world...

Today, the Suzuki in front of me on the highway had an annoying bumper sticker. As soon as I saw it, I instinctively reached for the car radio -- to what? Change the channel on the Sidekick? Tivo forward and skip it?

I think so! I think it was like when you reach for the remote when an ad comes on tv. If I were a coffee drinker, I'd be tempted to explain this behavior with "I hadn't had my first cup yet," but that's no excuse for me. I had seen an alarm clock last night that changes the color of the case when you tap the side; maybe that was it? Honestly, I think we've gotten to the point where we expect to be able to modify every aspect of our existence...

Grab your dick and double-click

Or, why Maggie can't get a date...

thisguy: i havent played D&D since middle school
thisguy: but i got hooked on WoW a little over a year ago
maggieb: I played D&D once
maggieb: in junior high
thisguy: you know what WoW is?
maggieb: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eWEjvCRPrCo
thisguy: ...
thisguy: whats your deal exactly?
thisguy: do you have to know everything?

Please ignore, for the moment, that familiarity with a silly little YouTube video does not equate with knowing everything. This guy has been trying to get a date with me for over a week now. I am totally not interested, but was trying to be nice, maybe give him a chance. Want to know a great way to piss off a smart chick? Be annoyed that she's smart. I was only trying to entertain him with that link, and he got all defensive. But I took the high ground, and kept talking:

maggieb: no, I do not know everything
maggieb: but yes, I like to be as aware and informed as possible
maggieb: as I am an entertainment journalist
thisguy: mm hmm
maggieb: what, do you find it obnoxious that I need to know everything?
thisguy: no, not at all
thisguy: impressive and somewhat intimidating perhaps
maggieb: intimidating, great
maggieb: well, then I won't tell you about my most brilliant idea I had at work today, that will transform Boston as we know it.

And I didn't. And now he'll never get to fulfill his 20-year-old dream to date the prom queen. The last thing any accomplished, independent professional woman wants hanging around is a Berger.

(By the way, my new idea for work is absolutely brilliant, but also totally top secret. And it might take like a year or more to implement, so don't hold your breath. But I promise I'll tell you about it as soon as I can.)

(Oh, wait, no I can't, because then you'd know where I work...)

Bored bored bored

Geez my life has gotten so boring up here in responsible adult-land. The deal with the lumberjack fizzled out -- well, maybe not, but I'm refusing to continue to put in effort just for the sake of drama. (he's doing this stupid possiveness without commitment thing that I find nauseating.) And when have I ever opted AGAINST drama? I met this other guy, total yawn, works in pharmeceuticals! I am a domestic goddess, which is inherently too stable to be exciting. And I'm paying off my credit cards, always a sign of infinite boredom.

Thankfully, no one is sick or dying, unlike last year at this time. Life is good, and safe, and stable, and prosperous -- but no drama, no circus sex, no 17-hour benders or last-minute trips to foreign lands. I can't become a groupie for a punk band, because there are no good punk bands left, and they're closing CBGBs. Last time I was there was on said 17-hour bender, ordering water and underwear, right before I passed out in Nomda's hotel room. (Funny, the first time I was there, I showed my lace underwear to Mindless Self Indulgence, and to Nicfit and the biker, who were with me the last time too. What is it about them, me, CBs and underwear?)

Also, no one is racy up here, I can't even *imagine* having sex on a fire escape (also, I don't have a fire escape...) No one even swears. It is so... Bostonian. Don't get me wrong, I am very very happy, so glad I moved back, hardly miss New York at all -- except for the adventure (and my friends, of course, but we've been doing pretty good with the visits so far). I want circus sex, I want all-night raging benders, I want wild parties!

I don't want to grow up.

No, that's not true. I want to grow up, but I want a partner in crime that will let me be devious and bad on the side. If not on a fire escape or in a taxi cab, then at least on the kitchen floor.