Vintage morning wood

This here is a classic old story, which I recently discovered was never posted up here, even though it won me a "Best Celebrity Chef Encounter" contest. Since as many people as possible should be informed of this incident, I post it here as a warning, a public service, and of course, for your amusement.

Breakfast

While at the bar in the front room of the Tribeca Tavern, I saw Mario Batali standing talking with a small group. As I rejoined my friends in the back room, I mentioned this spotting to my foodie compatriot.

"Did you talk to him?" he asked.
"No, I've heard he's kind of a jerk. Also, rumor has it that he doesn't bathe often enough, and he smells," I replied.
My friend pulled out his wallet. "I'll give you a dollar if you go sniff him."
Since Batali was standing near the top of the stairs to the bathrooms, and in direct sight of my friend's table, this would be an easy task to pull off and have witnessed, so I took the dare.

As I tried to squeeze past Mario, I put my hands on his shoulders, leaned in for a sniff, and said "excuse me." Mission accomplished. But...

He took my hand and called me beautiful, and asked my name.

"Hi, I'm Ma.. actually, since you can probably pronounce it right, I'll tell you my real name: Maddalena."
"Mario," he said, still holding my hand. "So, you speak Italian?" he said, in Italian.
In better Italian than his, I explained that my parents were born there and we go back almost every year. He cut me off, in English.
"You were headed to the bathroom. Go do what you have to do and then come back and talk to me." He finally let go of my hand.

When I came back upstairs, he was talking to another young brunette. She slipped off (relieved?) as he turned his attention back to me.
Now, Batali the man may be a smelly philanderer, but Batali the chef has some fine restaurants that I love. At the time, Otto was still serving breakfast, and I used to go every Friday. A really great guy named Dennis worked that shift, so I decided to take the opportunity to praise Dennis to his boss.

"Oh, yes, Dennis is a very important member of my team. But let's talk about us." He leaned in a bit more.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, now that I know you like my breakfast, we just have to decide when you and I are going to . . . make love."

I suppressed a laugh at this incredibly cheesy and out of the blue pick up line, and considered reminding him that he was wearing a wedding band, and had named pizzas after his kids. Instead, I decided to laugh it off.

"After breakfast sometime, apparently." I shrugged.

"That's good, since morning wood is the hardest, after all. Especially mine, as you'll see."

!!!
I couldn't take any more. "I'm sorry, I really should be getting back to my friends," I said, tears of laughter forming. I pulled away and rushed to the back room.

"So, did he smell?" my friend asked, a dollar in his hand.

"How much will you pay me for getting him to offer to show me his 'morning wood'?" I asked.

Speechless, he just pulled out his wallet and started counting off bills.

John Legend is not exactly safe for work

Dude, if you're on stage, and not at a sex show, can't you control that action?

Mmm, bacon

And I quote G3po: "Bacon can't hurt people; it's what angels eat."

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?

"Of Keys and Monkeys"? Excellent!

Best Bets Daily - Monkey Key Caps

Random Thoughts

Sigh. Whenever I get out of the bogging groove, you all lose so many pearls of my wisdom that scatter to be forever lost in the neighbor's back yard, or wherever the grass happens to be. So some thoughts without artistry or wisdom:

1. Reading Dana Vachon's novel; it is lovely and I can't put it down.

2. Had another dream in the half-sleep moments in which I was in labor with the Lumberjack by my side. I've gotten him altogether out of my waking thoughts, but I'm still having babies with him in the REM stages. Not quite sure what to do about that.

3. Um, see what I mean? TOtally unfocused. Forgot it already...

Well, aren't I greedy and demanding today?

Something else I want, want, want.

Want, want, want

Oh, how I wish I had picked these up when I was down in NYC this past weekend. If anyone was looking for a gift idea for me, you could grab me a handful of these.

(I also wish I had someone to share them with, so to speak. Been thinking about the Captain again lately, not sure why though...)

Update! They give them out at my old stomping ground, Buttermilk. Dave, next time you're down there, will you please grab me a, um, fistful?

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.)

Reason #743 why I'm proud to be from Massachusetts

Right of gays to marry set for years to come.

Leading the nation, baby.

(This is also reason #37 why I wish I were a lesbian...)

Nesting | The Public Radio Talent Quest

The Public Radio Talent Quest!

I'm up, I'm on, I've bared one minute and 30 seconds of my soul. Have you voted yet? Left a comment? Then pass the link around and spread the word, and be sure to poke around the site. There's some pretty good clips on there to listen to! Remember, when I'm all Public Radio famous, I won't forget who helped me get there, and I'll share your stories with the world (with your permission, of course!)

Stop shedding at the source

Handy trick, if only Siena didn't run at the very sight of the vacuum cleaner. IllogicalVulcan thinks the cat's too fat to run away, but from the looks of it, I think she's enjoying it...

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.

First We Have Brunch with our Moms, Then We Take Cambridge

Zombiewalk returns this Sunday; you could give Mom brains, brains, brains for Mother's Day... if she's into that.

And speaking of brains for bruch, I present you with Zombie Cate Blanchett and her Distressingly Bruised Bosoms.

Nicholas G. Carr: My new internet crush

Okay, so he went to Dartmouth undergrad; so no one's perfect. And Dartmouth is pretty close to Smith. But come on! So cute, so intellectual, so cutting edge. I should talk to him about what we're doing with Mobile technologies, and I'd love to debate with him how cell phones have irreversibly changed our society.

PS: OMG, he quotes my fave T.S. Eliot! Rumor has it he might be a Mormon, but I don't think I care. This man uses his brain on all that I've been musing on of late, such stuff as my career and future might be made on.

Math lessons with Abbie

Not only does Abbie have a posse, he also had a birthday. And he chose to spend it, not fucking in public (usually a very cat thing to do, but once a year he cedes it tot he humans, I guess) but rather teaching you math.

Well-trained chicks and ducks

As much as I love the Fug Girls, I'm way more concerned about his lack of a chin in this picture, than about the pastel.

Kerry Healey's no-brainer

See, whenever I feel down about beign dateless, I get another story about how dangerous dating is, and I can refocus. Now we've got GPS monitoring for batterers, which is brilliant, but God I can't believe we still need this -- and instead we need it more than ever. Sigh.

Offline

I've had two deaths in the family, I didn't get a promotion at the paper that I really wanted and was perfect for (everyone is shocked; they all thought I was a shoe-in), I've got two huge work deadlines looming over me, and a third deadline for the fraternity. So..

1. If I'm cranky, I'm sorry.

2. If I'm weepy, it's not you, it's me.

3. If I have any reason to think that a communication from you is going to be anything less than incredibly sweet and supportive and nice, I won't answer the phone/read the message/reply. Tough shit. (I've currently got two unread e-mails and a third I wish I hadn't opened. I deleted it, which was smart, because it prevents me from sending the kind of bitchy reply it deserves, but that I would later regret.)

4. If you've got your own issues/problems/fuck-ups that you want to project onto me, or dump my way, now's not the time. Sack up.

My horoscope said I can take some time out to lick my wounds, so I will. I'll be back to form next week.

Get outdoors!

Hooray, hooray, the First of May! You know what to do with this bench...