After all, it is now technically Friday, at least where I am. Although I confess: I am not making a pie now, nor am I likely to make a pie today at all, what with time concerns. But I am thinking about pie. A lot. And I did make pie dough today (or rather yesterday), and am now in a position to assert the following: a cup of butter, in stick form—nothing too outrageous (maybe even a little appetizing, if you listen to your secret desires). A cup of crisco—a little weird, but probably only because crisco itself is a little weird. A cup of lard, on the other hand—gross, gross, gross.
Another thing I did yesterday and today, and will do again today, with sleep, work, etc intervening, is go to the the Empty Bottle jazz festival (aka "Peter Brötzmann plays in various configurations"), where a few things happened that surprised me. First, it started on time, something I had that I was beginning to think was illegal (except at 3030, 'cause they bribe the alderman), the result of which was that I unfortunately missed the first ten-odd minutes of the Rempis Percussion Quartet's set. Second, it wasn't nearly as crowded as I thought it would be. They had chairs out, and the chairs were all occupied, but the fact that they had chairs out at all is significant here. (Moral: jazz audiences are smaller than rock audiences, and correspondingly better.) Third, about five minutes after I got there, an older Germanic-looking man walked right by me, and I thought, "That was Peter Brötzmann!" This non-encounter produced a stronger effect than I would have thought, considering I only have, say, three albums of the dude's, but I continue to be mildly amazed when famous (if only with respect to smallish groups) people walk the earth just like everyone else. In fact that's true with regard to many non-famous musicians—there was a time last summer and fall when I saw Jason Ajemian a lot walking around (this was recently after I first saw him and became able to identify him), and it took me a while to get over the "hey! I know who that guy is! I've seen him perform" reaction. It could be that the pleasure of recognition is too strong in me. This would also explain why the older British guy on the couch I was sitting on between sets, who was talking to someone who had, apparently, put him up three years ago, was interesting. He seemed just like a nice old guy having a meandering conversation, but it turned out he was also Paul Rutherford. At one point he said "you'll have to tell me what records I've made because I've forgotten". I don't even know who Paul Rutherford is, or didn't until it was revealed that Weiner considered seeing him worth driving down to Chicago, but I found the knowledge that I was sharing a couch with an accomplished musician moderately satisfying.
You hear a lot about corned beef and cabbage, but surprisingly little about corned beef and lettuce, even though cooked lettuce tastes good. I seek to remedy this.
Can you caramelize lettuce? That would be the apotheosis of lettuce, if you could.
Posted by: Standpipe Bridgeplate | June 16, 2005 at 11:24 PM
"The pleasure of recognition is strong in you, young Wolfson."
Posted by: Craig | June 17, 2005 at 07:34 AM
I have been to after-concert snacks with Brötzmann (and Corbett, Vandermark, and Gustaffson). And played with Kowald, alav ha-shalom. Jazz fandom is much easier than rock fandom.
C-ya tonite, and I'm glad to hear it starts on time.
Posted by: Matt Weiner | June 17, 2005 at 11:05 AM
I also once opened up for Ty Braxton, Anthony's son. He and his band then crashed in my apartment. I think it was dark enough that he could not see my CD collection, thereby coming to know that I had put him through college.
Posted by: Matt Weiner | June 17, 2005 at 11:19 AM
I have been to after-concert snacks with Brötzmann (and Corbett, Vandermark, and Gustaffson)
This is the kind of thing that people who are able to talk to other people do (like the girl who yanked on Tim Daisy's bag to tell him she liked his sets), I guess.
Posted by: ben wolfson | June 17, 2005 at 11:27 AM
Actually, it has more to do with having had a role in arranging the concert--I was the person who arranged for the slightly notorious promoter (with whom I was in Cub Scouts, back in the day) to be able to use University of Pittsburgh facilities for free.
Unfortunately, it also means that if these people remember me at all, which I doubt, it is as "Mizanny Thizeiner's little buddy," minus the izzles. I'm pretty sure I didn't mention my name.
Posted by: Matt Weiner | June 17, 2005 at 11:33 AM
Hey, you like that Richard Thompson fellow, right? I think he was in SC recently. I probably should have had him sign an obscure mote of musical apocrypha for you.
Posted by: dave zacuto | June 17, 2005 at 01:10 PM
You should have seen him, because he is awesome.
Posted by: ben wolfson | June 17, 2005 at 01:26 PM
What's with the lard hatred? It makes better, flakier pastry than butter.
Posted by: LizardBreath | June 20, 2005 at 04:01 PM
That's true—but it's still gross.
This is probably also true.
Posted by: ben wolfson | June 20, 2005 at 04:12 PM
Link is kaput.
Posted by: Standpipe Bridgeplate | June 20, 2005 at 05:04 PM
Works for me.
Posted by: ben wolfson | June 20, 2005 at 05:07 PM
Are you logged into blogger or something? I get an access denied error.
Posted by: Standpipe Bridgeplate | June 20, 2005 at 05:52 PM
That's doubly odd because wget from a foreign machine could retrieve it no problem. Anyway, here is an alternate link to the same picture.
Posted by: ben wolfson | June 20, 2005 at 06:04 PM
It is completely true. I kept a couple of jars of fat that cooked off our Christmas goose, and anything fried/sauted in it was wonderful.
Posted by: LizardBreath | June 22, 2005 at 10:35 AM