small h

Congratulations from me as well, and my compatriots over at Other Dining Message Board are similarly thrilled and plotting to descend for a menu sweep. (I'd go, but I don't do menu sweeps.)

You gotta wait 'til tomorrow unless you subscribe to the newsletter.

At least it's not of the even more useless "if anyone was offended" variety.

Not that anyone should accept it or anything.

What you quoted is from the NYT interview that got him into trouble. The apology part is this: “In my interview with The New York Times, I made comments that diminished the contributions, genius, and impact of Black and women artists and I apologize wholeheartedly for those remarks,” he said in a statement given to The Hollywood Reporter. “The Masters is a collection of interviews I’ve done over the years that seemed to me to best represent an idea of rock ‘n’ roll’s impact on my world; they were not meant to represent the whole of music and it’s diverse and important originators but to reflect the high points of my career and interviews I felt illustrated the breadth and experience in that career. They don’t reflect my appreciation and admiration for myriad totemic, world-changing artists whose music and ideas I revere and will celebrate and promote as long as I live. I totally understand the inflammatory nature of badly chosen words and deeply apologize and accept the consequences.”

🤣 H has been present for all three of my reductions and seen the strapping young residents shoving my femur back where it belongs. It is a workout! He says it's a good thing I'm pumped full of ketamine and/or fentanyl and/or propofol, because it's not a pretty picture. Sheesh, four dislocations. My second two came from pulling my knees up and flopping them over to the right, which is a comfortable way for me to sit (or it used to be). My first dislocation came from a half-split, which - since I can do a full split - seemed like a moderate choice. Guess not! I'm so sorry you went through this so far from home. I could've easily had trouble in Lima, or worse, on the flight back. My "blessing" is that it was on my couch the night we returned.

This is the first hip, again. After I dislocated it for the third time, I and my surgeon decided to swap out the implant for a more stable model. The ER doesn't give you 10th-visit-gets-a-free-upgrade punch cards, or I'd have kept going.

Ooh.

Nope, the page loads for me.

Sometimes! But I might also tell myself to have a third martini, which, no. Don't do that.

Crap. I was gonna try walking in this coming weekend. OH, WELL. And obviously I'm thrilled, also, too.

The balcony provides! Red Anaheim pepper, chard, sage leaves. I was gonna do something fancy, like stuff the pepper, and then I said to myself, Sylvia! you just got your hip replaced. Make an omelet. So I made an omelet. Needed more feta, and that pepper! Kapow.

Everybody loves murders.

I would go there. I love diners. And crab legs.

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/09/16/arts/music/jann-wenner-removed-rock-hall.html Old white guy says stupid shit. So it's a day, then.

Criticism: This is bad. Complaining: This is bad, and I don't like it.

Just watch Whitesnake's Here I Go Again, which is the same thing, practically, only better.

Wow. That is...something.

Grape juice (a Purim gift from my down-the-hall neighbors), lime juice and seltzer. My first mocktail! Not too bad.

And if you have hair on only a very select area of your head, keeping THAT off is also work. I know this because of my roommate.

Yes, at the Public.

I had pretty high hopes for a musical by David Byrne (I liked American Utopia when I saw it on the tv) and Fatboy Slim, even if it did sound a bit like Evita performed at the Limelight. Well, I wasn't bored, partly because it was only 90:00, partly because the stage kept being reconfigured like a set of Legos, and partly because performers kept popping up near me up in the cheap seats, and I kept being surprised by this. Also, the on-stage deejay - "stage" being something of a loose term, since there were stages all over the theater - periodically exhorted the audience to get up and dance. Which it did. The audience was very happy to be there, in the way it was when I saw Mamma Mia many years ago. It's nice to see an audience so engaged. It's also a little lonely to not feel engaged along with them. None of the songs was successful all the way through. The opener, the title song, had a great hook that wasn't repeated often enough, and the song didn't have enough else going on to make it an actual great song. Its hook was very similar to the hook from some other song, possibly by Roxy Music, I can't think of it right now. Now that I'm obsessing over it, I think it might actually be Sweet Caroline. The lyrics to nearly all the songs were straight up bad, not like lyrics at all. I may have read that they were mostly taken from actual people's actual words describing the events of the plot, which explains a lot, since most actual people cannot write decent song lyrics. The story was the story of Imelda Marcus, only without any mention of her shoes, which seems an odd choice, to say the least. She's treated very sympathetically, which I guess she has to be in order for a musical to be written around her. But not addressing how she bled her country dry - save for a very brief aside about an expensive cultural center - seems like even more of an oversight than ignoring the shoe thing.

Thanks, will do.

It's hot, so I gotta eat cold stuff. Zaru soba with okra, ikura, nori, carrots and pickles (both from my garden), silken tofu and scallions. The nori sogged up a little 'cause it's humid, but everything else was fine. dinner1920×1440 297 KB

I don't think "unread content" is the same as it used to be, since it no longer shows me everything I haven't read.