Very little to do with bikes.
Two days ago morning exercises for all the woofers and tweeters in the house was this little ditty…
Yes, because it is the one day I so intimately share each year with people like Davey Jones AND Mike Nesmith, Patti Smith, Rudyard Kipling, Tracey Ullman, LeBron James and Tiger’s Wood (apostrophe and SIC intended).
Patti Smith nearly always plays a concert her birthday night in New York, we weren’t there this year so we had to settle with our own little birthday party, orchestrated by Chappy. She cooked up a 5 course meal for 20 people! It was such a good time that I feel like sharing a little bit.
We brined up some pork shoulder for a couple days, then rubbed it with a mess of yummy salts, herbs, dry mustard and a bunch of other goodie, then put it on the mesquite bbq to slow smoke for 5 hours (so I went for a spectacular sunny ride).
4 other insane courses were prepared, and I think everybody had a really good time, but I won’t bore you with other than visual details.
It was a bit of a grown up party, check out the place settings in our weird living room, converted to a semi nice dining room.
Our very old sensitive eyeballs don’t like the flash bulb, so we just took non-paparazzi pics with crappy cameras set to no flash.
Here’s a crop of a shot of the 55 year old living room (mid century modern in all its finest glory-at least until I screwed it up)
CLICK ON THE IMAGE FOR AN EXPLANATION
As mentioned in the above click through this was late in the evening so those professional bike rider types had already gone home to beddie bye.
As also mentioned, we’re hanging out in a 55 year old house. Which happens to be Brian Lopes’ personal number, bestowed upon him by a papal order. We just did some gloves and in the non-sequitur department here they are:
Which will be on the website soon, if I can get my act together and finish this post.
I happen to be the same age as my house (!), we were both built in 1954 (a bad year for wine), which is a long time ago (!!!). So I expect to wear these new gloves a lot this year and hope I don’t have to pay royalties on the use of Brian’s number.
When you live with an artist, sometimes the usual isn’t normal. Here’s our excuse for a Christmas tree.
And another shot of the weird living room, again, no flash…and CLICK ON THE IMAGE.
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No birthday is complete without a present or two. Check these out.
One of the kooky and über creative artists in the house that night was Paula, and she and her man Craig made me some “hand mangled” truffles, complete with punk rock packaging.
HAND MANGLED!
Here’s the box.
YUM!
Then there was the Twatter socks!
And the Nature’s Greatest Miracle T-Shirt
Thanks everybody for the great gifts and fun times.
This (New Year’s) morning exercises for all the woofers and tweeters in the house was this little ditty…
And since having a party New Year’s Eve Eve usually means early to bed New Year’s Eve (9PM this year!), New Year’s Day means a bike ride early on empty roads, (although it was a deluge this morning).
Which brings me to the final birthday present, Odessa’s insanely good cookies. I got a batch and one of them fueled me all over Sonoma County today. Thanks, O!
Although it’s not Sunday Bloody Sunday, it feels like a Sunday, so a little recipe research seemed in order (thank you Saveur.com).
Happy New Year everyone!
