House of Love

Wabi-Sabi

Posted on 18 February 2010 | View Comments

Helleboris, Lichen and Manzanita.  For Anthology this week.

Devil’s Spoke – Laura Marling

Posted on 17 February 2010 | View Comments

Check this out. Just caught it on BBC Radio.  Don’t forget to mute Groove 24/7

On the Chalkboard This Week – February 16, 2010

Posted on 16 February 2010 | View Comments

Coming down from Downpatrick
Stopping off at St. John’s Point
Out all day birdwatching
And the craic was good
Stopped off at Strangford Lough
Early in the morning
Drove through Shrigley taking pictures
And on to Killyleagh
Stopped off for Sunday papers at the
Lecale District, just before Coney Island

On and on, over the hill to Ardglass
In the jamjar, autumn sunshine, magnificent
And all shining through

Stop off at Ardglass for a couple of jars of
Mussels and some potted herrings in case
We get famished before dinner

On and on, over the hill and the craic is good
Heading towards Coney Island

I look at the side of your face as the sunlight comes
Streaming through the window in the autumn sunshine
And all the time going to Coney Island I’m thinking,
Wouldn’t it be great if it was like this all the time?

Van Morrison

Happy Valentine’s Day to my Girls

Posted on 14 February 2010 | View Comments

Happy Valentine’s Day to my girls.

To Valentine Numero Uno.

Lovely one,
just as on the cool stone
of the spring, the water
opens a wide flash of foam,
so is the smile of your face,
lovely one.

Lovely one,
with delicate hands and slender feet
like a silver pony,
walking, flower of the world,
thus I see you,
lovely one.

Lovely one,
with a nest of copper entangled
on your head, a nest
the color of dark honey
where my heart burns and rests,
lovely one.

Lovely one,
your eyes are too big for your face,
your eyes are too big for the earth.

There are countries, there are rivers,
in your eyes,
my country is your eyes,
I walk through them,
they light the world
through which I walk,
lovely one.

Lovely one,
your breasts are like two loaves made
of grainy earth and golden moon,
lovely one.

Lovely one,
your waist,
my arm shaped it like a river when
it flowed a thousand years through your sweet body,
lovely one.

Lovely one,
there is nothing like your hips,
perhaps earth has
in some hidden place
the curve and the fragrance of your body,
perhaps in some place,
lovely one.

Lovely one, my lovely one,
your voice, your skin, your nails,
lovely one, my lovely one,
your being, your light, your shadow,
lovely one,
all that is mine, lovely one,
all that is mine, my dear,
when you walk or rest,
when you sing or sleep,
when you suffer or dream,
always,
when you are near or far,
always,
you are mine, my lovely one,
always.

Pablo Neruda

To mia piccolo Valentino

You’re the Queen of the slipstream
With eyes that shine
You have crossed many waters to be here
You have drank of the fountain of innocence
And experienced the long cold wintry years.

There’s a dream where the contents are visible
Where the poetic champions compose
Will you breathe not a word of this secrecy, and
Will you still be my special rose?

Goin’ away far across the sea
But I’ll be back for you
Tell you everything I know
Baby everything is true

Will the blush still remain
On your cheeks my love
In the light always seen
In your head?
Gold and sliver they placed
At your feet my dear
But I know you chose me
Instead
Goin’ away far across the sea.
You’re the Queen of the slipstream
I love you so
You have crossed many waters to be here
And you drink at the fountains of innocence
And experienced, you know very well

Van Morrison

Thank you both for making my life so rich.  I love you.

11 Questions – February 14, 2010

Posted on 14 February 2010 | View Comments

This weeks guest in the House of Love is Sam the Cooking Guy.

What fragrance provokes the most profound memory in you?

Baking bread

What is your comfort food?

Steamed rice topped with a fried egg and japanese mayo

Of the six senses (ESP included) which is the strongest for you?

Smell

What is your daily daydream?

To be totally organized

If you found a hundred bucks on the sidewalk, what would you do with it?

Probably keep it and buy something frivolous – hey, I’m being honest here

What is your existential bliss?

If I understand the phrase (and I’m not sure I do) it would be to see others happy

What are you hopeful for?

My kids growing up happy & fulfilled

What is your greatest vice?

Swearing

What is your greatest virtue?

Creativity

What do you want from life?

Happiness

Does Heaven Exist?

Oh yes

Puzzler

Posted on 10 February 2010 | View Comments

I used to watch this game show on TV when I was a kid.  In adult life, Lucky Lager used to do the same on their bottle tops.  Can you guess the phrase?

Click on the image to enlarge.

Good Luck!

By the way, there’s a hint in the picture.

UPDATE:  Here’s a hint.  The first line of picture are from left to right.

1st – What a B & B would hang outside to advertise what they are.

2nd – C’mon that’s too easy

3rd – A blood sucking blood you or your dog might get walking through the woods.

4th – What’s a female sheep?

5th – A frothy coffee drink with milk.

Add all five pictures together to form the beginning word of the phrase.

Musings of the Delivery Guy – February 9, 2010

Posted on 9 February 2010 | View Comments

Super Bowl XLIV ( I had to look that up)

I am glad the Saints won, although I admire Peyton Manning as one of the greatest Quarterbacks ever (he’s got a way to go to beat Joe Montana, and by the way his brother Eli is a putz), that said Drew Breez totally dominated the game after the first quarter showing himself to have grace under pressure and what’s that word…

Heart.

Miles and Miles of Heart.  Hell the whole team had it.  Double dog the whole city of New Orleans has it.

They deserved this one, and while I watched the Super Bowl with some disaffection that the Chargers weren’t in it – as they should’ve been, I was happy that the Saints pulled it off.

Now for the Who.

Were they lip-synching?   I noticed one very short sequence where Roger Daltry seemed to miss the lyrics.  I don’t know, what do you think?

I’ve seen the Who four times – the first time at the Inglewood Forum (where the Lakers used to play) was the first concert I ever attended.  My Mom dropped me and Carlo Bordenave off and picked us up promptly when the concert was over.

We were fifteen I think.

But the best was sitting 4^th row center stage for the Quadrophenia tour again at the Forum.  Keith Moon and John Entwistle were still alive.  Roger Daltry’s long curly locks.  And Pete Townsend…

Man.

And boy was it LOUD.  I had tinnitus for a week.

I took pictures during the concert and I still have (somewhere) an 8 x 10 of Daltry twirling the mike and Townsend airborne.  It’s a great picture.

So you can see that the half time show was somewhat of a disappointment for me.  It’s not just that they’re approaching seventy years old and singing “Teenage Wasteland”; it is as I was telling La after the program, that the Who were Kings of Anthem Rock and Anthems don’t lend themselves to medleys.  One finds oneself beginning to get caught up in the spirit of the anthem, then it shifts to the next.  It doesn’t work that way.  It’s as if Lynard Skynard began with Freebird and then shifted to Sweet Home Alabama before the really kick ass part of Freebird.

You know what I’m talkin’ about here.

The commercials – meh.  The game was better than the commercials for a change.

Some news.

So I haven’t told you I’m going to be a Grandpa.  Technically speaking I’m already a Grandpa to a lovely teenage son, who shows every sign of being a lovely man.  Actually, he’s showing a lot of signs of being a typical teenager, but that’s another story.  I love him and am proud of him and his accomplishments.  He’s quite the track star.

But this is different.  My daughters’ going to have a baby and the symmetry of life comes full circle.

We’ve known for awhile now, but just this last weekend we learned that our grandchild will be a boy.

My life has been filled with girls.

It will be refreshing to mentor a boy for a change; although I’m not quite sure how to do it.

But is there really much difference in teaching a girl to be a woman and teaching a boy to be a man?  I suppose there is, in that one must make the distinction of biology, but to teach a human being to be a human being is universal is it not?

Anyway, I take too much on.  That part is up to his parents and I’m positive that they will prove up to the task.

My job is to teach him how to play baseball.  And I’m not just talkin’ about playin’ catch.  I’m talkin’ about the psychology of baseball, the existentialism of baseball, the game ain’t over until it’s over baseball….

The life of baseball.

That’s my job.

Can’t wait.

On the Chalkboard This Week – February 8, 2009

Posted on 8 February 2010 | View Comments

Tangled Up In Blue

Early one mornin’ the sun was shinin’,
I was layin’ in bed
Wond’rin’ if she’d changed at all
If her hair was still red.
Her folks they said our lives together
Sure was gonna be rough
They never did like Mama’s homemade dress
Papa’s bankbook wasn’t big enough.
And I was standin’ on the side of the road
Rain fallin’ on my shoes
Heading out for the East Coast
Lord knows I’ve paid some dues gettin’ through,
Tangled up in blue.

She was married when we first met
Soon to be divorced
I helped her out of a jam, I guess,
But I used a little too much force.
We drove that car as far as we could
Abandoned it out West
Split up on a dark sad night
Both agreeing it was best.
She turned around to look at me
As I was walkin’ away
I heard her say over my shoulder,
“We’ll meet again someday on the avenue,”
Tangled up in blue.

I had a job in the great north woods
Working as a cook for a spell
But I never did like it all that much
And one day the ax just fell.
So I drifted down to New Orleans
Where I happened to be employed
Workin’ for a while on a fishin’ boat
Right outside of Delacroix.
But all the while I was alone
The past was close behind,
I seen a lot of women
But she never escaped my mind, and I just grew
Tangled up in blue.

She was workin’ in a topless place
And I stopped in for a beer,
I just kept lookin’ at the side of her face
In the spotlight so clear.
And later on as the crowd thinned out
I’s just about to do the same,
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said to me, “Don’t I know your name?”
I muttered somethin’ underneath my breath,
She studied the lines on my face.
I must admit I felt a little uneasy
When she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,
Tangled up in blue.

She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
“I thought you’d never say hello,” she said
“You look like the silent type.”
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century.
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burnin’ coal
Pourin’ off of every page
Like it was written in my soul from me to you,
Tangled up in blue.

I lived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs,
There was music in the cafes at night
And revolution in the air.
Then he started into dealing with slaves
And something inside of him died.
She had to sell everything she owned
And froze up inside.
And when finally the bottom fell out
I became withdrawn,
The only thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keepin’ on like a bird that flew,
Tangled up in blue.

So now I’m goin’ back again,
I got to get to her somehow.
All the people we used to know
They’re an illusion to me now.
Some are mathematicians
Some are carpenter’s wives.
Don’t know how it all got started,
I don’t know what they’re doin’ with their lives.
But me, I’m still on the road
Headin’ for another joint
We always did feel the same,
We just saw it from a different point of view,
Tangled up in blue.

Bob Dylan

11 Questions – February 7, 2010

Posted on 7 February 2010 | View Comments

This weeks guest in the House of Love – Gillian Flynn Editor in Chief of Riviera San Diego Magazine.

What fragrance provokes the most profound memory in you?

Skunks. We had a lot of them where I grew up in NY, and I’d roll down the car window when we’d smell one on the parkway. I traded my scratch-and-sniff sticker collection to obtain as many skunk stickers as possible. It was a cinch, considering everyone wanted bubble gum. I adore underdogs. Or would that be under-skunks?

What is your comfort food?

My homemade meatloaf. It’s a take on Bobby Flay’s balsamic-glazed recipe. I’ll eat it three days in a row. Cold. Warm. Any which way.

Of the six senses (ESP included) which is the strongest for you?

Sight. I’ve worn glasses since I was 8 (my first pair was purple) and I never take vision for granted.

What is your daily daydream?

I am a realist to a flaw. I never understood girls who mapped out their wedding and named their children… when they were still single.

If you found a hundred bucks on the sidewalk, what would you do with it?

Look around to see if anyone dropped it.  I’m a Pollyanna that way. I tell cashiers when they give me too much change.

What is your existential bliss?

Being offline.

What are you hopeful for?

Less abbreviation. The demise of the “look at me” generation.  A sincere curiosity in our elders; ask your parents and grandparents about their life. See them in a youthful light. Learn your history.

What is your greatest vice?

Cigarettes. I should have lived in the ’40s when it was glamorous.

What is your greatest virtue?

Empathy.

What do you want from life?

A novel.

Does Heaven Exist?

It will be come as you are! A calorie-and-celebrity free zone.

Busted!

Posted on 4 February 2010 | View Comments

Pay attention to the guy in the background on the left about 1:07 into the clip.

Apparently, he didn’t get the memo.

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