Summertime
And living is sweaty
As the kids say - “not gonna lie” - things are a little on the slow side in production these days. Usually, my summers find me in some of the hottest and sweatiest places, loaded up with gear and my hands over my head. This year, I seem to be more in the studio, doing some post-production sound and working on a variety of personal projects. Oh, and thanks to Alexandra winning two free tickets on Jetblue (another story), we went to Peru.
And now I’m back and I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m likely available for work. Why not call me for your upcoming production or post sound projects?
In the meantime, I thought I’d revisit some archival nuggets (much of it involving the brutal triumphalism of high school football), in order to regale you with humid summertime fragments of perspiration and snippets of epicurean folly…
And have a great rest of your summer (which now, thanks to climate change, goes through September… and October…)!
July 20 2017, Chillicothe OH, “Gone” - 87°
You know you're back in Chillicothe when after a sweaty day, dinner is
a big 'ol slab of tasty meat at the Old Canal Smokehouse. Sadly, no
mead was on tap, but several very odd flavored beers were. Sam had the
Prime Rib. Lunch was at the 'new' R Kitchen, where the Thai Tuna Salad
was a table favorite. Ah, Chillicothe... You may not have my heart,
but my stomach aches for you.
August 27 2017, New Orleans LA, “QB1 Season 2” - 91°
New Orleans! 'PE for Athletes' is like school on Thanksgiving - No Class. Lunch was had beforehand, in Tony's room from the famous Cleo's down the way and was, in fact, right on. My falafel was downright delicious. We got soaked, again, on the field, and the coaches let it rip after playing it cool in the beginning. Dusty and I strolled Bourbon Street after wrap and after eating some tourist-approved Jambalaya I caught a whiff of vomit on the way home. And it's a Monday.
September 21 2018, Fort Lauderdale FL, “QB1 Season 3” - 88°
Today was fire and rain. And mac n' cheese, chicken breasts, kaiser
rolls and watermelon for team lunch. But backing up a bit to call
time, a fiendish plan was hatched to have Chipotle for lunch. I asked,
in earnest, "What's the best meat to have on your salad bowl?" The
responses I got were all over the map, so I went with chicken.
Walkthroughs were sweaty, Nik's bus had air conditioning, no one uses
Waze. We ate lunch standing up. The Chiefs trounced the Eagles but it
was sloppy. Jerry was amazed by their band. Nik's head was everywhere.
We got through the rainy bits.
Secret confessions were revealed in the van back to the hotel.
Everyone thought the Chipotle sucked. I know - shocker. Jordan
complained that his salad was basically just a heap of condiments you
get anyway when you order anything off the menu topped with salsa.
Other colorful commentary included "It was okay" and "Disgusting."
Perhaps because I was hungry, it passed right over my lips without any
impact at all. I actually have almost no recollection of eating it at
all. Vague memories of spice and texture, but nothing here to report,
move along. Honestly, I knew what I was getting into (call time
planning) and had the day to unwind my mind enough so as to experience
it without experiencing it. The post-game pizza was equally sad and
morally ambiguous but tempting enough for the nearby Landmark Forum
participants to ask for a slice (and a banana pepper).
The Fort Lauderdale airport smells like turpentine.
September 4, 2019, Gainseville FL, “QB1 Season 4” - 87°
At breakfast, I met an older couple sheltering from the storm, up from St. Augustine. We were fine all morning. Anthony and Corey went over their times' tables and Corey learned a "life hack" for dealing with nines. Anthony called it a "cheat code." I call it a scene. We call it maize. At practice, we finally got a taste of Dorian when all at once the sky opened up and drenched everything on the field, including us. But we soldiered on, and then, as if by a miracle, the skies parted, the sun came out and soon we were dried and sweaty. It was the best/worst of all possible worlds all rolled up into an experience burrito. Are six plus seven thirteen?
Then we retired to La Tienda where the house salsa is "just like mom used to make but with more tomato" according to Jordan. Many tacos were eaten, all with better retention than our last excursion to Cilantro Taco. I had the chicken fajitas - they were okay. Points off for the truly horrific guacamole plating. Looked like a bathroom misadventure... After inspecting my picture of it, Tony (Team Bryce) asked if it was, in fact, "uneaten." But then again, I don't eat avocados.
May 24, 2019, Southlake TX, “QB1 Season 4” - 89°
And we were meant to eat at Torchy's Tacos for lunch but the line was too onerous. So we went a few doors over to Zoe's Kitchen. They make sound really good, and I was hungry, but my "Greek" salad was lame. What made it "Greek?" Not the red potatoes hiding underneath. Not the salad out of a Sysco bag. How many times do I have to ride this hobbyhorse up Mount Olympus before someone notices? And yes, I opted to add four falafel balls on top. If my cousins from Netanya saw me eating these, they'd disown me and they'd be right to. Crumbly orbs of tasteless meal reminiscent of packing peanuts. And the side of "braised" white beans? Forget it. But, as usual, I ate the whole thing. Brett and I agreed that it was a far cry from the nirvana of Hummus House in Fort Lauderdale.
Later that day... Brett threw his entire home state of Alabama under the bus after eating the homemade grilled chicken at the Hogan house. And after we wrapped, Brett guided Felipe and me to Hard Eight BBQ - AKA "Meatlandia." Kyle, perhaps too prescient, opted out. What can I say? Like Zoe's they make it all look really good, and they pile it high on your tray. Like meat pushers, they're slingin' 'cue. Felipe said it the best: "It's a meat superstore!" We were stoked! I got some ribs, brisket, a "brush popper" and hot sausage. But now, after the fact, under the cold hard light of my laptop, just writing all of it down is making me feel bad. Bottom line - the ribs were good, the sausage was very good but the rest was eh. The brisket was too salty. "I've had better barbecue," remarked Felipe. I say 2.5 stars at the most. Brett would go three stars, but he also had the steak. I took home leftovers. And the live music was not appreciated.
What else? This hotel has a secret entrance that goes right into the Bass Pro Shop next door. America, what a country.
October 9, 2021 - Monroe, LA “Acts of Reparations” - 86°
With the call time today, I had time to go for a run. The sun was already rising when I hit the pavement and headed straight for the blocky monolith across the parking lot - the Pecanland Mall. As I circumnavigated the shopping mecca, I vaguely recalled that at one time, this may have in fact been the site of a pecan orchard. Were the trees I was now passing also pecans? And is this the last JC Penney in existence? It was too early for any shoppers, so the whole area had an air of waiting. I had many questions. What would it be like at ten AM when the doors were unlocked? Is mall culture still alive and well in Monroe? On my third revolution around the earthbound retail labyrinth, I imagined the inside as a polychromatic wonderland of green, red, purple, white, yellow, orange, and yellow-orange, everything from fluorescent lights to wicker things hanging from the ceiling. And a sunbeam streaming down from the top, lighting up the whole shebang, with the air smelling of cinnamon and old buns, fried chicken and hot dogs, gum, peppermint, the smell of sweat, the smell of money, the smell of desperation. I heard the train whistle blowing as I rounded the last corner and the sun blasted upon me, sending me higher. Oh, Monroe, you are glorious!
Lunch was brought in from Melvyn's. Tony reported that his burger was "pretty gross" and that a "new low" was attained, but he could "respect that." Also, there was no mustard. There was, however, sour cream, vegetable oil, captain's wafers, and mayonnaise which Tony also said was a "secret weapon - a problem solver." I had the grilled chicken sandwich, and while it was moist it was also completely devoid of flavor. It was like biting into a zero. I mean, it looked like a chicken sandwich, and yet eating it was like contemplating what existed before the big bang. It was baffling and made me question my own state of consciousness. But I was not alone with this problem - apparently, everyone's food was de-flavored. There was a rush on the salt packets. How is this even accomplished, we wondered... But before an answer was constructed, I foisted my inedible, un-savory, and rubbery french fries upon Sam. She offered tomatoes in return but I couldn't take any more surprises. Tony reported that his onion rings were a "non-factor." Artemis was not having the tuna and was furthermore regretting not bringing a backup meal. Who is this Melvyn the Un-Food Magician?
Parting Thought
I’m starting a new personal project related to the idea of “careers.” It may be something on your mind as well.
If it is, let me know.
If it isn’t, then you may be in the center of this diagram:
