For the second year in a row, I convince KK to attend the Halloween movie marathon at the Coolidge Corner theatre.  It’s the fourth horror movie marathon I’ve gone to since moving to Boston.  This was the third that I’ve drug KK to.



The Coolidge Corner Theatre marathon runs through their After Midnight series, which shows a fun assortment of midnight movies and cult faves.  Because of the connection with this series, they run the marathon in a manner that makes it a real endurance test, from midnight to noon.  Last year I only made it until around 8:30 am, I couldn’t will myself to watch the final two films in the late morning hours; especially after KK had gone home around 7am.  So this year, as any good marathoner will do, I prepped.  I slept in as long as I could on Saturday, and after running to the laundromat to do a load of laundry, I laid back down and tried to sleep some more.  I think I only managed an hour or two of restless napping, and finally got up and showered at 6pm.

I was supposed to meet KK at 9:30 for a late dinner, but as I tend to do, I got there much earlier.  I used the extra time to stock up on some Halloween candy, as a back-up energy reserve for the night.   I got the Willie Wonka candy mix, because that seems to be the only source of Nerds candy in the modern age. 

I still had some free time, so I got my first coffee of the night.  I hadn’t had any caffeine all day, in an attempt to capitalize on my lack of chemically induced energy to get more sleep in.  After a quick coffee, I ran down to the Booksmith to meet KK. 



I’d arranged for us to meet in the bookstore, because I knew that would be incredibly early, and I didn’t want to stand outside to experience the full effect of the unseasonable weather we were having.  We were due to get several inches of snow throughout the night, and at 9, it was already coming down like it was January. 


KK was right on time, and we set out to find somewhere to grab a late dinner.  Many of the restaurants in the area close early, but a small bar up the street was open late, and because of the snow, it wasn’t too crowded and bar-like to prevent dinner conversation.  The Coolidge Corner Club house, has a sports bar theme, and all of their menu items are named after sports figures (which made it all the more difficult to figure out what anything was).  I’m all for giving strange specialty sandwiches celebrity names, but if it isn’t too much trouble, could the basic items retain their easy to identify monikers?  We both got boring, but gi-normous, bacon cheese burgers.  Dinner was fine, and we still had some time to kill, so we ran down to JP Licks for my second coffee of the night. 
When we finally decided to go to the theater, there was already a line formed and a considerable amount of slush on the sidewalk. 
We got some prime seats on the aisle (key for the ability to sneak out at any time for snacks or bathroom breaks) of the left side of seats.  The center of the theater had already filled up by the time we got in.  There were a few people in costumes, but for the most part people were dressed in the costume that I’d chosen: someone that wanted to be comfortable sitting in a theater all night.
The general festivities got started immediately, with a series of bizarre-o clips done by something called the whore church.  Some of it was fun, but for the most part it went on a little too long.  It reminded me of a better produced version of a montage of clips that I’d made for a high school project.  We had to make a commercial for an English class, and my group decided to make one for a time travel agency.  I hooked my old school video camera up through the vcr and taped clips from Gone with the Wind and ET.  I was too embarrassed to watch myself on camera, and faked sick that day.

We were in prime shape for a night/morning of scarry movies!




Before the movies began, they had the costume contest.  There was a wide range of effort and creativity put into the costumes.  The top three entrees were Cap’n Crunch, a dude with a machete in his face, and a baddie straight out of John Carpenter’s “They Live” (complete with a reversible sign that proclaimed “Obey” and “Chew more Bubblegum”)


The first movie of the night is one of my faves, Suspiria.  It is a late 70’s Italian horror flick directed by Dario Argento, and the first of his Three Mothers trilogy.  There is a strange beauty to the gore in this one.  It is difficult to explain to someone that is squeamish about gore but he has this way of setting up a scene that makes the death almost art; but perhaps of a Dahli or Heroniymus Bosch style that is beautiful and disturbing at the same time.  Suspiria is the story of an American girl studying at a ballet school in Germany.  The script was written by Argento and his then wife Daria Nicollodi.  They wrote the script with young girls in mind, but cast much older women in the roles; however they kept the dialogue the same.  The slightly young tone of much of the dialogue adds to the strangeness of the film. Furthermore, this is filmed as many Italian films of this era were, with a multi-cultural cast that were allowed to act in their own language; resulting in a mix of dubbed and non dubbed dialogue.  The film held up well in my esteem.

The print was a little damaged, but pretty good.   They only show film at this festival, which adds to its film nerd cache.  It is a real treat to see all of the scratches and crackles…but probably only for people that dig that kind of thing!
The second movie was Return of the Living Dead.  I’ve seen it before, and it isn’t one of my favorites.  I can’t put my finger on it, I usually enjoy a good dose of humor in my horror. 

I chose this time to make a run for the restrooms.  I was surprised that after only 1 movie, there was already a dearth of toilet paper.  I was even more surprised that I was the first person to tell the staff.  I guess I am destined to always been the responsible party.  I also grabbed a popcorn (CCT does it right.  Real popcorn.  Real butter) and a soda (they now have Boylands fountain soda, so I got a Birch Beer).

RotLD was fine.  I didn’t love it any more or less.  I guess I got to see Linea Quiggley naked on a much larger scale, not that I needed that!

The third film of the night was the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre.  This one used to freak me out, mostly because it looks so much like a snuff film.  Even as a video, it is badly lit and grainy.  The print they had was in bad shape.  The light scheme of the film kept changing, through what I can only imagine was due to damage on the film.  Additionally, the beginning narration done by Night Court’s John Laroquette, was missing from the print.  I must really have become a big callous of late, because I barely batted an eyelash at the movie this time.

At this point it was about 5:30am.  I was pounding candy to stay awake.  KK got a coffee. 



The third movie was not helpful in making it over the hump.  It was new to me, but oh so slow moving.  Hardware is a late 80’s/early 90’s sci fi horror flick with Dylan McDermont, and put me in the mid of the great Tom Selleck/Gene Simmons robot horror film Runaway.  This too was a baddie robot flick.  In spite of being full of post-apocalyptic distopic wonderfulness, but the story dragged on and on; and then it had 2 or 3 psych out endings before actually ending.

So, since Hardware nearly succeeded in putting me to sleep, I bought 7am burrito and coffee.  The burrito was not a classical breakfast burrito, but I feel that any burrito consumed at 7am is a breakfast burrito!  It hit the spot.  The fun didn’t end with the tortilla full of happiness, we were treated to Demons 2.  This is another Italian 80’s horror film, which, if you’ve been keeping score means lots of out of sync mouths and awkwardly dubbed performances.  But the movie was so bat-shit crazy, that it was amusing.  The story concerned demons taking over a high rise, and the demons enter the world from a television playing a documentary about teens exploring a demon-ravaged city….perfectly reasonable premise, right?

This was the point that I called it quits last year.  During that marathon, the final films were not enough to combat the nausea and achiness I was experiencing.  The remedy to that this year was Hellraiser.  Even with the outdated clothes and hair, it held up.  The effects are a little hokey, but the centobytes are still all kinds of goth S&M cool. 

I ran for another bathroom break, complete with some high knee lifts to get some blood flowing in my legs.  I got back the theater as the final movie began.  It was 10 am, and I was bound and determined to see it to the finish.  However, I couldn’t bear to snake back into the row, so I sat behind KK and stretched my legs out into the aisle.  Rabid was the second film that was new to me.  It is directed by David Cronenberg, and appears to be from his period of films that involves vagina-like orifices (James Wood shoves a video tape in one in Videodrome…”long live the new flesh”).  In this case, the heroine is injured in a motorcycle accident and is given a radical surgery to graft skin back on her; which results in her spreading some kind of rabies and need to feed on blood from a vaginal orifice under her arm.  It made perfect sense after being awake all night.  Actually, I spent the entire movie wanting it to be over, so that I could go home and sleep.

Eureka!  We both made it to the end; a little worse for the wear….but surprisingly, we weren’t too disgusting.  Out in the afternoon sun, the snow had already melted. I was only able to grab a few hours sleep on Sunday afternoon, so I was half asleep and grumpy for the rest of the week.  Luckily, KK and I work in the same lab, so we got to be miserable together….and if that isn’t friendship, I don’t know what is.

I woke up much earlier than my internal alarm clock will usually allow on a Sunday.  Actually, I really lucked out this morning.  If I have to wake up early, I usually sleep lightly, for fear of sleeping in.  I wanted to wake up at 8am to leave by 8:30am, and set my alarm before going to sleep.  I actually woke up at quarter til, and as I woke up, I realized, that I had not changed the day setting on my alarm clock (you can set it for every day of the week, just the week, or just the weekend....I'd kept it on the week setting)  My reason for such a early (by my standards) rising?  A day trip up to Salem with KK and D.  We were taking the ferry up to Salem, and had to be there at 9:30am.

I'd never been up to Salem for the actual October fairs.  The town fully embraces its Halloween tourism, and has food booths set up and vendors galore.  I've heard it can be over run with pointy hats and Hot Topic vampire teens, but even that can be fun to watch.  I'd gone up on Halloween weekend, but just at night to see Die You Zombie Bastards and the Misfits cover band at the Salem movie theater.  We wandered past an especially aggressive zombie walk, and escaped into a boutique to avoid the overly grabby living dead.  But since we were going just for the show, I'd missed the hot cider and fried delights of the fair. 



I'd texted KK the day before to solidify the plans.  She got me a ferry ticket, and I got all of us return tickets for the commuter rail, so that we didn't have to worry about the surcharge for paying on the train.  She told me to be at the docks (by Columbus Park) at 9:30am; which of course meant that I got there at 9.  I had time to grab a seasonal pumpkin spice latte, so that I wasn't a complete grouch.

Turns out the boat departs at 10, and they want people to be there early so the line can form and boarding is prior to 10, so that departure is 10.  I wish I'd known all of this, because I would have gotten there at 9:30 anyways.  Since I thought 9:30 was the departure, I arrived sufficiently early.  It was no real problem though, because it was a lovely day, and I had a book (Something Wicked This Way Comes) to keep me from being bored.

The two of them arrived around 9:30, looking even more exhausted than I felt.  They'd gone out the night before and had gotten in late.  So there we all sat on the docks, really wanting a few more hours of sleep, but putting on a good face for the others to make the day fun.  The ferry was slightly late.  We got on the boat, and were treated to a fairly steady tour of the harbor until we got past the harbor islands.  I learned that the history of the harbor islands is mostly garbage dumps and whore houses. 

By the time we got into Salem, it was do or die....we needed to find food...the reserves we were all running on were about to be depleted.  We found a cafeteria style place along the street that the ferry dock is on.  We all got variations of eggs, toast, and potatoes.  I ordered my second coffee of the day. 

Salem is full of attractions.  These are small spaces either museum-ish or performance-ish.   Most deal with witches or the witch trials, but there are also pirate museums and a scarry movie wax museum.  They also have the house that Nathaniel Hawthorne's Seven Gables is based on.  Most of these attractions are 8-10 dollars, and more than a couple and it quickly eats up a good chunk of money.  Between KK and I, we'd seen a smattering of these attractions on previous trips.  So, we knew which to avoid, the worse being a circular room that you have to look up around the perimeter of the room to watch light shone on still figures as the story of the witch trials is played,  It gives you a real crick in the neck.  I'd enjoyed a "museum" about Lizzy Borden, called the 40 Whacks musuem.  I saw that with MT when she was in town; but it has since closed down.  It was very informational, but mostly involved walking around and reading, not popular with the kids.

Our first stop was the Witch's Cottage.  KK had a groupon for their admission.  We were ushereed into a theater, and told that the first two rows might be touched by the performers.  I took a seat right next to the "fright plank".  The show was about 15-20 long and told the history of witches in New England.  They used some puppetry, which reminded me of the Skeski's from the Dark Crystal.  There was much black light trickery, and a fun use of soap bubbles with the black lights; which lit up around the room like descending magical orbs.  Occassionally a character would stomp down or rush up the fright plank.  Most of the frights were things that were suddenly on stage after a black out.  The best part, was the explanation of how people could be accused of witchcraft in colonial days.  A young girl came out and pretended to retell the tale of seeing glowing eyes in the woods, etc....but I couldn't pay attention as the poor girl had braces and couldn't quite say the words through all of the metal.  She had that odd mouth movement of someone that has just gotten braces and still isn't used to them. 

From there, we went to the Witch House.  This was a historical attraction.  It was the home of one of the witch trial judges.  They have it furnished with period pieces that aren't actually from the judge's family.  Scattered throughout the house are signs with the history of the judge and his family, as well as general factoids about the time.

We stopped to marvel at these implements of punishment.  I wonder how many of the accused witches used the powerful jazz hands spell?



This wasn't authentic enough, so we were given the direction to "look miserable". 



I made sure that we got everyone in the goofy pose, and forgot to mention to KK that we were now going back to "happy to be punished" poses.



We left the house and walked back into town, then, as might happen, when you have three nerds awandering, we took a detour into the comic book store.  I think we spent more time in the store than we did in any of the other attractions.  A considerable amount of time was spent looking at the giant microbe toys.  You can take the geek out of the lab, but you can't take the lab out of the geek!

We decided to make our last stop at the Nightmare Gallery, which is the horror movie wax museum.  I was most excited about this one.  On the way from the comic store, we heard a loud siren noise.  In front of us, coming down a hill, was a large group of motorcycle police, driving with their sirens blazing.  The cops lead a procession of civilian motorcyclists.  By the time we got to the street, we noticed the people lining either side of the street, with a path left open for the cycles to pass.  We walked along the street, until we were directly in front of the Nightmare gallery, hoping the procession would soon pass.  Little did we know that it was the MDA Halloween Motorcycle Run.  I couldn't find the exact number of participants this year, but apparently in previous years they've had about 3000 riders.  I wouldn't doubt it, as it took 45 minutes for the parade to end.  It was novel at first, but quickly became loud and annoying.  We stood behind a crazy woman, that kept stepping into the street.  There was a group of spectators taking phone videos of the cyclists, for a very long time.  I wondered if they would ever sit and watch all 45 minutes of video...but then in my search for the details, I ended up watching one video on youtube taken by one of the passengers....I spotted myself, briefly, in the crowd....which goes to show, that I shouldn't be so judgemental, I do brainless things too.  (my mother would probably argue that I do brainless things more often than not)



We finally got across the street and bought tickets for the Nightmare Gallery.  I was super psyched to see the wax statues, like the horror-movie-nerd I am.  We were let in, and were greeted by a woman in a gyspy costume.  It seemed a bit odd, but I was game.  I kept trying to turn around to see the statues behind me in the foyer.  She performed some spiel about the spirits not being happy, and had us stand in a circle and hold hands.  Frankly the holding hands of a stranger went a little too long for my tastes.  We were then led into a dark hallway, and then subjected to jump scare after jump scare.  Turns out, after 3pm during Halloween season, it becomes a haunted house.  It was actually a prety effective haunted house, as KK was shrieking and pushing D through the rooms.  I on the other hand, kept trying to linger in each room to see the statues, but the ghouls were persistently in my face threatening me with noises and bloody looking sharp things.  I let myself be pulled along by KK, but whined, "but I want to read the placards" (not sure why my mind immediately latched on to that turn of phrase for the signs, but I am sure it added to my general dorkiness).  At the end of the musuem, I tried to lag again, but it was clear that they had a turnover schedule to keep to push the next set of people through.  But since I was last, the final ghoul asked my name, and then shouted out the door that they were keeping me and they would have to find a way home without me.  Then I said, we're taking the train home, so he shouted that at them; and I trailed off, but I have the tickets!!  Finally as he montioned for me to leave, I caught his attention, and asked if there were times that you could actually look at the museum.  Ever the pest am I, he quickly answered in the affirmative and shut the door in my face.

We were all worn out by that point and I led them up towards the train depot, but alas, before we got the the station, I realized that we were in the weekend commuter rail limbo.  For some reason, they don't have a train during the 4 oclock hour on the weekends, otherwise they have one each hour.  We headed back into town, and grabbed a small bite at the Gulu Gulu cafe.  I downed my third coffee beverage with a ham and cheese crepe.  KK and D had beers with their small entrees.  After finishing, we settled the bill; but realized we still had an hour to kill, so we ordered again!  This time I got a port (yum) and the mexican chocolate cake (double yum).  D was quite gracious in getting the chocolate cheesecake, after they told us there was only one piece of the mexican cake remaining.  In retrospect, I should have given him a chunk of my cake, but my manners were clouded by all the spicy chocolate-y goodness.

We caught the next train, with no problem, and it was a hassle free commute back into the city. 

I'd forgotten that I had plans for the weekend, until I was commuting home on Friday.  In lieu of acceptable reading material, I was perusing my date planner, and realized that I had tickets to see Jonathan Richman on Saturday night. Jonathan Richman is originally from the area, and is probably best known as the guy with the guitar, that popped up at various points during "There's Something About Mary".  Aside from the movie, he writes and sings songs very similar in style to the quirky little songs from the film.  After seeing the film, I immediatly bought two albums, and proceeded to not listen to them for a number of years.  When I finally did, I latched onto and loved the original Modern Lovers album, which he put out in the late 70's.  It rocks a little more than his solo material, but all songs retain the same idosyncratic quality.  Since moving up to Boston, his music is even more enjoyable, since he sings about everyday locations like Goverment Center and the Public Gardens. 

He was playing at the Middle East for three nights this weekend, and we bought tickets for the Saturday show.

The doors didn't open until 8pm, so I spent a carefree afternoon wandering around Coolidge Corner.  My primary goal was to pick up a copy of "Something Wicked this Way Comes" by Ray Bradbury.  The Disney adaptation is one of my childhood faves, and after finishing up "The Night Circus", I needed more magical circus reading; though Bradbury's tale describes a decidedly darker magic. 

I caught up with E, and we made plans to meet up in Cambridge at 8 pm.  They've got a lot of experience with shows at the Middle East, and he'd called the club to see what time JR actually went on.  The phone recording had said that he wasn't going on until 9:30; so we planned to meet at a new veggie restaurant up in Central Square.  I was actually a veggetarian during my colllege, post college to pre grad school days, but veggie restaurants were never much to my taste.  Often the menus are either full of fake meat options or overly au natural and bizzare.  The Veggie Galaxy was neither of these.  They serve traditional diner fare with a veggie twist.  They had a club sandwich, a tofu salad sandwich, and veggie versions of blue plate special dinners; but I opted for the burger menu.  They had two choices of burgers, chipoltle black bean or mushroom chickpea and about 5 toping combos named after areas in the city.  Below these pre-designed burgers, they had a huge list of options to make your own burger!  I had the black bean burger with goat cheese, pickled onion, and apple-corn salsa.  A got the same burger with a tarragon pesto and sweet corn mash and a vinegary red cabbage slaw, and E got the club.  Sandwiches came with either a potato salad or the red cabbage slaw.  We got a big plate of onions rings to share.  With all this, we still couldn't resist deserts.  It was my first taste of vegan ice cream, which all seems to taste like coconut.  Even my pumpkin ice cream flavor didn't hide the coconut undertones, I topped the ice cream with wet walnuts, which they described on the menu as wet nuts...this led to some off color jokes.  A got tazo chocolate pudding, which tasted good, but didn't have much of a pudding consistency. 

We got to the Middle East at 9:35, and JR was already on stage.  This was my first show at the upper room of the venue.  It was terribly crowded, and we had to wait until the song was over to edge to the back of the room.  The tallest guy in the room was in front of me, and I think his feet hurt, because he continually rocked his weight from one foot to the other....so I too swayed to keep a view of the stage. 

Prior to the show, E warned us that JR puts out many albums, and only performs new material live.  He sang mainly about love (which, in truth, is what most songs are about, right?), including one song in French.  There was some bizzaro super fan at the front of the room who sang her own back up during the french song.  Otherwise, it was just JR on guitar, with a guy on a snare drum backing him up.  It was simple, but very good.  JR tells this odd little stories in song, with tiny punchlines scattered throughout; so there was intermittent laughter throughout the show.  It is difficult to adequately describe his style to someone who has never heard him, but I really enjoy it, as did the heterogenous mix of music lovers attending the show.  I would imagine this might be something that hipsters might have latched onto, but I think JR's sincerity is kryptonite for the irony loving hipsters. 

At 10:20, he finished up a song, and said goodnight.  I was puzzled.  I asked E about the timing, and he reaffirmed the time from the phone message.  After I bugged him, he asked the sound guy, who said that JR had started late at the friday night show, but got there on time for our show.  They must have adjusted the phone message after Friday's show.  The sound guy appologized, but there wasn't anything more they could do.  Since there were no opening acts, and JR was playing three nights in a row, the shows were short anyhow.

We stood in the outside of the club, trying to prolong the night.  Unsure of what to do with ourselves.  But we were considerably disappointed....





But reflecting on the delightful meal and the fact that we only missed 35 minutes of a short show, but still got to see a pretty awesome musician playing live.....we couldn't stay completely downtrodden...



The two old pros at the Cambridge music venue scene thought of everywhere we might be able to catch a bit more live music; but we had to make due with my rendition of the Lemonheads version of "Mrs. Roblnson" as we walked back the car.  (I think that tangent began after someone mentioned Evan Dando, which is still a pretty random name to mention in everyday conversation)

Once in the car, we listened to a band, Your Neighbors, that used to play live at the volunteer coffee house, Guru Java, where the three of us had met back at Purdue (oh so many moons ago).  We all tried to remember some of the bands that we'd loved back in the day.  There was a band called the Velmas, that I had a hand painted t shirt of, but I couldn't recall what the band actually sounded like.  I recalled a band called Nenah Foundry, and E said they'd eventually had to change their name because the real Nenah Foundry sewered them. 

Best unintentional pun ever!

I had the distinct pleasure of traveling back in time by way of Boston's South End, at the Medieval Manor.  It is in the same vein as the big Medieval Times restraunts, but without the arena, jousting, and live horses.  This is more of interactive dinner theater, themed as a king's court with jesters, wenches, and peons.  KK hatched the idea for the outing, in celebration of her boyfriend D coming to visit from Germany.  They have a price cut for students on Thursdays, so a bunch of us poor professional students clamored together to go. 

As half of the party live in the south end already, it was just me and fellow grad student M who were going straight from lab.  I'd like to say that I was dilighently working up unitl we left, but who am I trying to kid.  We'd had to specify what time we were arriving for the 7:45 show, when we registered, so I ran over to the adjoining lab quadrant and grabbed M at 7:15.  The google maps had given me a walking route of about 15 minutes, that went down Albany Street, jumped on an overpass, and then back on the street.  Something about this didn't sit well, but a revised map indicated that we could walk on Albany the whole trip.  However, I was a little worried about the quality of our path, when the overpass had been recommended.  It ended up being okay, though the misty rain was just enough for me to not use an umbrella, but enough for my glasses to provide me with only 50% visability.  I was glad to have a walking companion, because the street became slightly less well lit as we continued down Albany.  Upon turning onto East Berkley, we saw a couple of guys in jester garb standing it what appeared to be an alley way, so I urged M to continue to find the real entrance.  But the end of the block only yielded a fenced in area, clearly devoid of a front door.  Turns out the alley is the entrance, this was slightly less shaddy looking when we saw KK and D inside the nondescript door.  (What is this a 1920's speak easy?  What's so wrong about clear front door signage??) 

Once inside, KK immediately had to run out because she forgot her id.  (I only mention it here, to shame her into carrying it on her person always in the future.  Does no one else worry about being a Jane Doe in an emergency room?)  We met our new master's student AC in the foyer, and we were all ushered into a crowded bar.  Along the way, D was diverted away by a jester. 

The bar was densely populated with middle aged women in foil crowns.  I was sure that they belonged to the charter bus that I'd passed twice trying to find the enterance.  I opted to not buy a drink at the bar, since we'd already paid for beverages with dinner, though it was tempting to buy a drink so that I could have the bartender do a magic trick for me.  Oddly enough, the bartender was dressed in a red vest with arm garters, and not like Ye Olde Inne Keeper.  After about 20 minutes, we were led into the main dinning room, which was a number of long tables surrounding a stage.  We had a table in the front left corner of the stage.  Soon after sitting, the jester returned with a piece of cloth for D to hand him during the show.  At once, I knew that we were in for a treat all night.

About this time, a wench came by and explained the drink system.  Our admission included a drink token, so the table had a pile of them.  We were seated with a couple of other parties.  Each token bought a small pitcher of light or dark beer, a carafe of white wine, or "virgin mead".  She took a poll of what we wanted a brought the appropriate beverages for us to share.  During the night, when a vessel was empty, we'd put it at the end of the table and they'd bring us more.  It was pretty okay system, as no one went dry, and we still had several tokens.  It probably didn't hurt that it wasn't the best tasting alcohol.  The mead was an pommegranite iced tea with enough honey to give it a distinctly mead-y taste. 

It was about this time the KK arried, and the show began. 


The show carried out through out the evening, and courses were served between sets.  It was a combination of skits, storries, and songs.  A central theme being everything was slightly "bawdy", though it crossed into the land of crass several times.  The guitar player was very good, it was harder to discern the singing because the sound system was a little off.  All throughout the show, the characters called on D and made him the punchline of every other joke.  He was a good sport and got an extra drink token and free souviner glass. 



I don't remember if what he is reading here was particularly funny, but I laughed a lot (perhaps due to the rapid consumption of cheap wine, which is the only way to consume said beverage!)  Additionally, he was called on stage to perform "I'm a little tea pot", with several other audience members.  Probably a good thing that there was a crowd, because I was appalled to learn that in both Germany and Poland, this childhood classic is not sung.  Oh the humanity!  I am making it my mission to teach KK all of my favorite kids songs, especially those with accompanying jestures.  I relish the opportunity to teach her VBS songs!  (ie:  Father Abraham and one about Noah's ark, where he buids it out of hickory barky, barky!!)

It turns out the ladies in the foil crowns were all a part of a Chrisitian Women's group.  I wasn't sure if they'd read the online disclaimer of the lewd nature of some of the humor, if they didn't mind it, or if they just didn't know the definitition of bawdy.  One particualr highlight of the night involved Gladys, with a beauty salon coif and heels, who got brought on stage to honk a horn during a song.  She wagged a finger at her friends, who hooted, hollered, and took video, as Gladys honked a horn that extended from a jester's crotch.

The remainder of the crowd was a mix of the college aged and middle aged.  I think M described a group directly across the stage from us best, a group of attention whores.  They were clearly intoxicated, and woo-hoo'ed a little more often than called for.  There were even a couple of calls for the performers to "take yer shirt off!".  At the end of the evening, the king went around the room and announced birthdays and anniversaries that were being celebrated.  One particular girl had her own birthday cupcake with a lit candle.  The king, jokingly told her to blow out the candle before the place burnt down.  Instead she announced, "Everyone has to watch me blow out my candle."  She held the cupcake in front of her, and her iphone above her, and proceeded to take her own picture blowing out her birthday candle.  I only feel bad for laughing at her nonsense, if she was indeed celebrating alone, and stuck documenting her own birthday wish.  However, I doubt this was the case.

The best entertainment of the night, was a fairy tale told in the style of a drunk, it was pitch perfect with transposed letters, to tell the tale of Coor Pinderella.  Again, copious amounts of cheap wine might have added to my enjoyment.

The food was suprisingly palatable, the trick was, you have to eat everything sans utensils.  The first course was steamed mussels and a cheese and pepper pita pizza (no sauce).  The second was a faux dragon's blood soup. When I told my mother about this course and told her to guess what it was, she immediately guessed Borscht?!?  I am grateful this wasn't the case.  Instead of borscht, we had the far less common tomato basil soup.  The brought it to the table in a metal pail, and we passed around bowls.  It was just the right temp to drink without a spoon.



The next course was a beef rib, one per guest.  I was expecting this to be amazing, since they had a spot on the registration, where you could pay for an extra rib.  But, there were enough no-red-meat-eaters, that I was able to have two.  It was a good thing, as it was feast or famine with the ribs, and my first rib was definitely lacking in the meat area.  The second made up for the first's deficiencies.



After the rib, we were given a bowl of salad.  It was about as good as an iceberg lettuce and red cabbage salad can be, except for the added displeasure of figuring out how to each a salad with balsamic dressing with your hands.  I failed that test, at least according to the big drip of dressing on my shirt. 

The last course was 1/2 rotissary chicken, with a lovely rosemary seasoning.  It was a challenge to try to get through that after all the rest of it.  I couldn't resist eating the crispy, rosemary-y, skin; but otherwise, I couldn't get through the whole thing. 

The show ended mid chicken, and they did a final song, and brough the house lights up to 1/2 bright.  So there we sat, with the better part of the main course unfinished and drinks yet to be drunk; unsure if we should wrap it up and leave, or finish the meal. 

All in all it was a fun evening with some good friends!  Perhaps not the best taste of medieval life, but enjoyable nonetheless.

I've gotten into a bad eating habit of late.  I like to compare it to the no-time-for-real-food-diet that I had in undergrad.  I usually missed the breakfast service in the dorm, and ended up getting something off the food pyramid, like Cheetos and a Mountain Dew.  When I had a real kitchen, I loved to bake and cook, but the studio apt kitchen has squeezed that love out of me.  I have gotten into the take out habit for dinner, because I don't have the energy to cook a sad little dinner for one, when I drag my tired bones home.  As a solution to that problem, I've resolved to start making a real dinner on Sundays to rework during the week. 

Since it is October, I was excited to make a crock pot of chilli, but mother nature threw a wrench into my plans, and it was in the mid eighties all weekend.  Don't get me wrong, it is still okay to eat chilli when it is warm out, but it isn't the perfect Autumn Chilli Experience....brisk weather outside, leaves between orange and red, and starting to gather in crunchy heaps on the sidewalk, a stack of scarry movies to watch, and a warm pan of cornbread to sop up the sides of the empty chilli bowl.  So my cozy experience must wait for a real Autumn weeknight.

Instead I decided to get super creative with my crock pot, since I avoid using my oven which seems to set off the smoke alarm 1/2 of the time. 
I became curious if I could make the ultimate comfort dish, in the comfort of my own crock....meatloaf.  I did a quick web search, and it yielded a suprising wealth of info, but I'm no fool (no sir-ee); so I decided to consult my mother.  She thought it sounded like it might work, which wasn't the reassurance I needed, so I procceed to have a multiple text message dialogue with G.  All parties agreed that the recipe must be tried, and whether it retained a loaf shape or not, it would be edible.

 I ended up winging a recipe combined with several online ideas, the back of the McCormick meatloaf seasoning packet, rememberances of loving my mother's meatloaf when she added bbq sauce, and my own ingenuity. I used the binding agents (egg and milk) from the packet recipe, which was for 2 lbs ground beef, but I only had 1 1/2 lbs. I combined a chopped onion, beef, fresh grated italian bread, and the above ingredients with 1/4 cp bbq sauce, and kept adding bread until it was loaf-able. I cooked it on low for about 5.5 hrs, at which time, there was a nice pool of fat on the sides of the loaf. I skimmed most of it off, and opted away from the typical ketchup glaze, and made a kicky sauce from a can of diced tomatoes, bbq sauce, and buckwheat honey. In the end, loaf was achieved! I kept its shape fine, just missed the crustiness of the outside that you get from the oven. The sauce was brilliant! Ofcourse, the blue plate (or rather burgandy edged plate) special meal wouldn't have been complete without fresh mashed potatoes.  



Now I just have to learn how to eat a normal portion instead of forcing down an extra piece because I've been smelling it cook all day.

Out of the blue, we are cursed/blessed with 80 degree weather today!  The sunshine and warmth are appreciated, but the sudden temp increase, after being in the 60's all week, is bound to mess with my sinus health. 

I decided to hit up the Arnold Arborteum, in hopes that some part of the autumnal color changing had begun.  It was so nice out, I decided to have a little picnic lunch.  I went to the City Feed and Supply on Centre St.  It was hoppin', and took 15 minutes to make me a cold sandwich.  I got an appropriate side from the little organic groccery.  The City Feed and Supply has a whole slew of interesing sandwiches, specializing in local ingredients, but I am always drawn to the most specialized sandwich.  They have a tofurkey slice sandwich.  Now, to some, this might be a major yuck, but during my veggie days, I had tried tofurkey, and come to the conclusion that while it didn't especially taste like turkey, it did taste good.  It is a fairly mild taste, so the real selling point of this sandwich is the other toppings:  avacado, grain mustard, pepper relish, pickled red onion!  Anything with pickled onion is heaven to my taste buds.  I'd wanted to try kale chips for some time.  I really liked the texture, and would be interested in a less seasoned variety, as the "spicy miso" flavor was caked on the crinkled edges of the kale.



I made a general mess of myself during lunch, thanks to the avacado.  But, boy was it worth it.

The Arboretum was lovely, but not in an especially Autumn way.  It made for a nice walk though, and there were several odd trees that caught my attention.




Of note were these strange berry things on the one tree.  I could imagine that they are used in some form of Chinese herbal remedy, but that might just be a flight of fancy.  The hydragea was completely dead, but still intact. 

After wandering up through the fir trees, the overlook above the explorer's garden, and then coming down through the hanging garden; I ended up at the same bench (which was fortuitous, because I realized I'd dropped my napkin earlier).  There were tons of people out, so it was the only bench in the shade available.  I then sat for about an hour reading The Night Circus. 



This is rapidly becoming one of my faves.  It is the story of two magicians involved in a competition centered around a strange traveling circus.  When it came out, many were touting it as the next Harry Potter.  I suppose, as being a magic-fix for those feeling the void of a new Potter novel, that comparrison works; but it is really lovely in its own way.  The first half of the book moves in a non-linear fashion, mirroring the mazes within the circus itself.  It is really quite original, and even nearing the final stretch, I contnue to be suprised by story elements. 

On leaving the park, I did see one tree with leaves in mid-transition; which I guess means that the real beauty of Autumn is just around th corner.

It is not often that my weekend is chock full of social events.  It is usually both exciting and exhausting when it is! 

I began the weekend early on Friday with a dept'l field trip to see Contagion.  Quite a interesting experience to see something like that with a crowd of scientists.  It was agreed that the science was not impossible, and the characterizatoin of the scientists was fair.  I geeked out, because some of my non-science genre film faves made appearances.  The USAMARID BL4 level scientists were played by Jennifer Ehle (who was in the quintessential adaptation of Jane Austin's Pride and Predjudice) and her co-worker was Demitri Martin, who I kept wanted to break out into some bizarre-o series of jokes, all the while maintaining composure culturing the deadly fictional virus.  I guess the closest "me" character in the film is the academic scientist played by Elliot Gould.  Though to be fair, I guess, I would be more comprable to his student that says that she can boil the samples because she is already gowned up in the BL3, but that character was on screen for less than a minute.  I read in an issue of Nature last month, that Elliot Gould had some safety training, mainly because he was going to act out taking things out of the liquid nitrogen freezer by submerging his hand into it.  (Non science readers:  liquid nitrogen is used by us lab rats to store things, primarily cells.  It is around -196 degrees Celcius, and is so cold it would cause severe burns)  The only low point of the movie, was the fact that my gigantic medium soda was pretty much caramel colored soda water; just cola flavored enough to be nasty.

Several of us finished the night with birthday drinks for a friend.  I was able to have two lovely ciders and two paint thinner flavored cosmos.  I made it home a-okay, thanks to a delightful alcohol absorbing shepard's pie.  The outcome of this outing, is that I really don't know much of the music played in "club" bars nowadays, which obviously means that I am old and out of touch.

Saturday, I got up early and got my laundry done.  The laundramat was sufficiently empty for me to get the machines that I wanted, and my Subway coffee did not have grinds in it (for once).

I then had to get myself in to work for a 4 hr symposium in an ice cold auditorium.  After which I did a little work, and wasted some time in the lab.  I had to meet E and A in Brookline, but not until 9:30pm, for a midnight showing at the Coolidge Corner Theatre....so I caught up on a few episodes of the Guild online. 

I couldn't waste enough time in the lab, so I took the bus up to Newbury Street and browsed through Newbury Comics. I also got something to tame my growling stomach. So glad that it is autumn, Pumpkin Spice Latte complemented by little baby donuts!


I met them at the Bookmith, but not soon enough to avoid discovering two books that I could not do without.  One was The Night Circus, that I had intended on buying, and the second was a novel by Tobe Hooper, which I couldn't not buy once I had noticed it.  Tobe Hooper is the director of the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but the novel is written with him as a character in the story...how can it not be awesome??

We also met up with P and D at the bookstore, and we all trudged up Harvard Ave to a sushi place we'd noticed a couple of years ago when wasting time before catching a midnight showing of Repo the Genetic Opera.  I was happy that it still existed, as I was really in the mood for sushi, and most sushi places have very little offerings for vegetairans (which E and A are).  This place every normal veg roll, and also has some with asparagus, sweet potato, and banana.  I stuck to my assortment of faves.  I so seldom go out for sushi, so when I do, I always want the tamago (sweet egg omlette), eel, and spider roll (deep friend soft shell crab).  I also got the trusty standby of spicy tuna roll, but this was suprisingly subpar.

After dinner, we still had an hour to kill, so we went to the last open establishment, JP Licks, and caffenated ourselves! 

We wandered across the street for the movie, and saw the line for the first of CCT's October events, which was a band followed by a showing of Demons.  We were not there for that, and thus didn't have to wait out in the cold.  Instead we were able to enter, and ran up to one of the smaller theaters upstairs to see Tucker and Dale vs Evil.  I got to see this last year up in Sommerville, and was utterly suprised it hadn't gotten a wide release.  It is super funny, but a little gorey.  I compare it to Shaun of the Dead.  The room was nearly full.  It was a great show, except for a guy with a girly laugh that kept laughing at nothing.  There was also someone (maybe the same guy) who thought he had a bunch of funny commentary one liners, which just fell flat.

After two days of socializing, I curled back into my hermit cave and watched Apocalypse Now on Sunday. 

I had a severe need to see a movie this weekend.  I haven't gone to a theater in some time, and just wanted the whole experience of popcorn with artery clogging oil, medium soda that is the size of a big gulp, and fighting the pain of having to pee during the last 20 minutes of the feature.  I caught my usual early afternoon showing, and was pleased as punch that there weren't too many people in the theater.  The show got out around 3, and I figured I would take my normal walk through the Boston Common and Public Garden.  Now, going into the movie I saw a small, but incredibly graphic, anti-abortion protest; so as I approached the gazebo in the park,I figured the crowd that assembled was a pro-choice rally; that the smaller protest was responding to.  There was a lame-o hip hop group on the gazebo, dressed much like the Kids Incorporated kids (the brigth neon lycra under denim skirts that started the career of Fergie...and Martika, who sang Toy Soliders, but I guess she isn't so relevant anymore....although the real breakout star of KI was the kid that was known as the Kid, whatever happened to him....I digress) 

There were some cops hanging out and watching the show, and to this point, I was still convinced it was pro-choice.   I was cautious to get into the crowd before I knew what they were celebrating.  I approached the perimeter of the crowd, and suddenly there was no doubt as to the motivation for the celebration....it was definitely some kind of legalization festival.

Now!  I am pretty neutral on this subject.  I voted for the decriminalization measure on the ballot a few years ago, mainly because it is a waste of money and resources to arrest and prosecute individuals with small quantities of pot.  But I am inexperienced otherwise.  I was at a party in undergrad, in which I was offered, and politely declined.  I sat in a corner, not quite knowing what to do with myself, until an acquaintance suggested we make a run to taco bell.  It isn't like I have any grand moral positon for or against it; in spite of my extensive DARE training in elementary school coupled with being raised on After School Specials, in which the worst case scenario plays out on the teen that says yes to vice.  Actually, in my one or two cases of being offered, the offerees were often very non-after-school-special.  No one whipped out the dreaded peer pressure.  The DARE course really stressed the amount of berating you would encounter, if you DAREd to say no to peer pressure, and the After School Special gave you any number of dramatic monologues to fire at so called friends, who weren't really friends because they were attacking you, peer pressure style.

Walking near our hotel in San Francisco, I smelled more people partaking in public than I thought I ever would ...until this!  Nearly every group of people sitting on the lawn of the Common was surrounded by smoke. 


tT
Even more amazing was the number of people sitting on the hill.  On memorial day, they  cover this hill with small flags. The effect was duplicated with stoners!



I walked around the gazebo area for a few minutes, trying to find an obvious sign for the event.  Turns out it was the Boston Freedom Rally sponsored by the Mass Cannabis reform coalition.  They had a single booth with some petiitions and t shirts.   Aside from that and the overwhelming aroma, there was no clear indication of the reason for the festival. 

I'm not sure if it was a case of contact munchies, or that I'd only had my movie popcorn to eat all day; but the fair food being sold was pretty enticing.  I got a burrito and fried dough (I may just have been suffering fair food withdrawl needing my yearly dose of powedered sugar).



I stood under a tree and ate my snack, trying hard to stare at anyone.  The crowd was an interesting mix of genres and fashions, which I guess goes to show that stoner culture doesn't discrminate.  That said, the concessions tents were overwhelmingly neo-hippy in nature.  I didn't realize people still wore fimo bead necklaces and tie dye. I was also suprised that there weren't more booths trying to sell hemp fiber as a cause.  This was most definitely a legalize pot for pot's sake kind of festival.  I could even have got a foam finger pot leaf to support the cause.



It was also the first time I've seen hackey sacks in a long time.  Though the hackey sack kids were kind of preppy.  I'm not sure if they bought a used sack on ebay, because they thought that was how you fit in at a cannabis festival.  Though for all I know, hackey sack is still a popular pursuit in circles that I don't travel in...though it was never really popular in those particular circles.

The festival took up about 1/2 of the Common.  There were two stages and two areas of food concessions.  Neither stage had music that I wanted to sit and listen to.  I caught bits and pieces of cheesy hip hop, reggae, and thrash metal. Between the two stages there was a long line of booths.  I walked on the path between the two stages, and was caught up in the mass of people.  Even if I wanted to explore handmade pipes or silk screened t's with leaves, I was stuck moving in a conveyor belt fashion to the end of the cement path.  I was proud that I didn't have a claustraphobic freak out, again maybe the second hand effect helped out in that regard.

It was an interesting glimpse into a subculture that I am not familiar with.  I learned that I'm still not rushing out try it for myself, but I'm not against others enjoying themselves.  I dislike the accessories, fashion, and music associated with it, but the food is okay by me.

A few weeks ago, I was complaining to my mother that I didn't have anything interestingt to do for the day; she advised me to walk around and I would find something interesting.  Strangely enough, that worked out for me.  I could hear a distant druming noise and decided to investigate.  I wandered along the far side of one of my neighborhood parks and found a free music festival.  I didn't end up staying long that day because apparently I am a young couple magnet.  I'd found a nice quiet shady spot to sit and listen to the odd assortment of acts at the Jamaica Plain music festival.  I was trying to get through a tedious novel, whose name I won't mention for fear of inciting some unexpecting poor soul to read it.... when I happened to look up, I noticed that three couples with infants sat near me.  I don't mind infants, but it's just that when I have a remote desire to look cool, hip, and available it is not aided by being circled like a wagon train camp...but by young families.  Since the music was pretty average, I ended up calling it a day....however the fact still stands, I am pretty awesome at wandering into interesting events.

This weekend, I decided to do something I hadn't done in some time.  There is a thai take out place at Fanieul Hall, that has supprisingly decent food (for a kiosk in what is essentially a food court).  I like to grab some drunken noodles, and take them across the street to Columbus Park, so that I can eat my noodles next to the harbor. 



It gets me away from the tourist hub bub of Fanieul Hall, and is usually relaxing.  The food court was crowded as usual, but no more so than any other non summer Saturday.  However, while walking over to the harbor, I soon realized that I'd once again wandered into something....this time the arts festival. (The city calls it the ahts festival, but I refuse to pander to cheap shots at new england accents).  I ended up catching a comedic Shakespeare performance, some random opera, and a smattering of artisan boothes.  There were two things that made the day pretty awesome.

1.  Free Lara bars.  They had a two mini bar limit per person, but my ability to blend in worked to my advantage and I was able to sneak back into line and grab two more bars.  Yeah!  Free healthy fruit and nut snacks for me.

2  There was a glass blowing exhibition.  After my day at the Chihuly exhibit and watching the bizarre and memsmorizing Werner Herzog film "Heart of Glass", seeing the art in the making was incredibly interesting. 



The molten glass began as a glob at the end of his rod.  He did some fancy molding and rolling and blowing and came up with a golden cross hatched cone.  Over this, he add more clear molten glass, and rolled and blew some more, transered it to a seconde rod...then he did some fancy trick in the kiln and voila he suddenly had a plate.  After wandering around the vendor boothes, I found myself back at the glass blower.  This time, he was making a vase with two birds.  Amazing stuff.  The demonstration was put on my a local studio, and they have classes that are suprisingly reasonably priced.  Stay tuned, I may work up the nerve to try it out.

Not too shabby for a day with no plans!