Viva Las Boobies

I was warned about Las Vegas- I didnt believe it. There were slot machines in front of me as I left the plane- I mean IMMEDIATELY as I left- like, before the Starbuck's or the Chili's. And they were everywhere. Next thing I saw was a poster that read "Shoot a REAL Machine Gun" with a big blonde in a tank top (big hair, big gun...big everything... except her clothes which were exceptionally tiny)holding an AK-47 and smiling for all she was worth. I think it would be a toss-up whether a fella would want to work the gun or the gal- it's Vegas- my guess is it'd be an all or nothing gamble.

Aside from extreme overstimulation from just...too many of EVERYTHING blinking ringing and clanging I came to a realization. I mean with everything going on somehow one particular item (well, two actually...) snapped into extreme clarity and, well, not to be crude- it stood out. All the statues here have HUGE boobs. No kidding. I expected it on showgirls but everywhere I looked- Greek, Egyptian, Italian- I mean Venus rising from the sea looked like Dolly Parton in a wig- and she was SMIRKING. So- I plan to keep looking as I have not yet found my way out of Caesars Palace but here is the evidence thus far. The proof is in the statuary. As ever- tits rule.












:) X

And now a word about a dinosaur...

Barrett Jackson... I felt like I had landed on Planet GUY. So you will get this in segments- as I did. The store manager hauled me directly from the entrance to Barrett Jackson to see...the BIG attraction...the world's largest robot...who thinks a Mini Cooper is an hors d'oeuvre!


Robosaurus. I felt like the prettiest girl at the monster truck rally that day- let me tell you...


It stood

It picked up a poor defenseless Saturn (it was a car show, they announced the make of the "victim")

It belched a lot of fire (and a little confetti)

And then chomped it!


OK, OK. I kinda liked it. Sue me.

:)X

Remember, "All You Can Eat" is a Suggestion, NOT a Challenge!

Taking a break, mentally from Houston, which so far is gray, cloudy and at 50 degrees, colder than I packed for... and filled with the most agressive drivers I have seen since Mad Max the Road Warrior. (My mantra- "there's no place like home, there's NO place like HOME".) I give you my latest and scariest NYC discovery.

Todai Restaurant www.todainyc.com Located at
6 E. 32nd St. I had buzzed by a few times on my way to an appointment and been amused by the Happy Squid waving from the lobby.

The restaurants on 32nd Street are mostly Korean and fairly daunting as ... well, nobody in there looks a bit like me. Frankly I worry that without my occidental posse I might not be welcomed- or at the very least commit some grievous error in etiquette for which the waiter will need to kill me or himself.

But who says "No" to a happy squid? Or an all you can eat buffet of Asian delicacies including sushi, snow crab legs, all sorts of grilled meats and really scary skewered shrimp with their heads on... (I had VLH decapitate- I tried but it kept LOOKING at me)This and much more for the prime time price of $27.95 (I think it's about $3-$5 cheaper if you go on a weeknight) I worried that If this place catches on I may not be able to get in but with seating for 700 and a buffet LITERALLY a city block long- I could tell a few of you...



A little salad



A lotta sushi



THEIR dessert bar



VLH's dessert plate (I helped...)

Bon Appetit!

Toto check the map- I don't think we're in Kansas, anymore

Our booth at Barrett Jackson is located adjacent to and unfortunately within smelling distance of the Famous Dave's BBQ stand http://www.famousdaves.com/
If anyone wants to find me I will be lunching there today.

It looks a bit like Detroit. My cerebellum registers cactus, sagebrush, roadrunners and retirees and its 61 degrees in January. And yet what hangs over my head fluttering like flags over a fiefdom are the banners of the kings- GM, Ford, Bentley. And they all share an anthem- VRoooooooom VRooooooooom.

It's not Kansas. It's not the Motor City. It's Desert World in Scottsdale, AZ. and the Barrett Jackson's world famous auto auction http://www.barrett-jackson.com/. Aside from the fact that ALL I care about in a car is a. that it goes and b.that I like the color (I picked up the car on Sunday and someone asked me what model I got and I said "Red".) What the HECK am I doing here- to me a Hemi is half a planet. I looked at the booth across from my company's and asked the sales person if it came in any colors besides...metal. No idea what I would use it for but gray is not my color.

But- work beckoned me here to Scottsdale so I came here to make money, for work and to make trouble- for fun and enjoyment. It's actually a hoot as I have not spent a great deal of time with the sales staff below the manager level I was now thrown in with the guys who essentially make the money that pays my salary. And they think of me as a "higher-up" One guy actually introduced me that way- "This is Melanie Nerenberg, my higher up" Made me feel like I was ON a lift- or at least 5'6" tall. Yep- to THESE guys I am "corporate" A word which means- QUICK act like you never do ANYTHING but work. I was deferred to. I was escorted. I was driven around AND practically genuflected to. It was UNBEARABLE. So I did what any self respecting corporate brat would do. I blew my cover.

The evening's gala was invitation only and silly me- I left my invitation to the $400 a head invite in my other LIFE. But smart me- being corporate- having NOT worn the long sleeved golf shirt with the company logo embroidered on it and because I look AWFUL in khakis (kind of like a bowl of butterscotch pudding with pleats) I had on a suit. And according to one of the sales staff- at least in his opinion I looked like the folks going into the gala. I made a mark on my hand with a magic marker, picked up a shawl and threw it over my suited shoulders and grabbed a plastic cup someone had left on the counter and walked up to security. It had been suggested I affect I southern accent but frankly, I couldn't hold it- I went for New Jersey with money but no class. "Excuse me Hon" I tapped a beefy girl from Security on the shoulder. "You seen my husband?" She looked at me- after all there were 4998 other folks inside besides me and my fictional husband. "No M'am" she said "Can I help you?" I waved the hand with the drink and the marker mark quickly past her- gesticulating a bit and sloshing my drink dangerously close to her nice red windbreaker for effect. "He was supposed-ta wait right HERE" "Oh" she said- "I didn't see him". "He has my PURSE" (slosh) "How'm I supposed to get IN?" (shoshity slosh)I held the drink closer and closer as I moved. I was getting dangerously close to HER and she REALLY didn't want to get hit with whatever was melting in my cup. "Why don't you go find him?" she said and lifted the velvet rope to give me entrance.

I ran past the Elvis impersonator (sheesh) Cleavage with more depth and breadth than the Grand Canyon and Mickey Dolenz doing a Monkee's set in front of the Monkee mobile and headed straight for the Barbecue station. "Pile it on" I said as I stood there- "He's on Atkins". I appeared back at the booth with food for my new found and very grateful buddies. "How did you do it?" they asked. My boss has a saying- "only the paranoid survive" I did not want to let them know I had broken the rules but was really happy INSIDE myself to know that I had. "I just asked someone nicely." I said. "Eat up guys" And they did.

More- with pics- later. :)X

Twelve Years of Rent

The waves of fortune keep washing cool stuff up on the shores of my life. The other night- 4 tickets to RENT. Oddly enough, even being the culture hag that I am, and having seen the movie more than a few times- (I own the DVD), I had never seen it in the theater. I knew the story behind the story- Jonathan Larson's untimely death the night his play opened on Broadway- he was 36 years old. It is ironic and horrendously fitting that the author of a play which relates to a disease that consumes so many young people- that his life also ended so awfully early. The credo of the play "No Day But Today" hits a little harder when seen from that perspective. For more on the show http://www.siteforrent.com

So- it was me, an office mate, her friend and VLH in the 12th row of the orchestra, stage left. The set was distressed and multi-leveled with blue-gray acoustic tiles soaring to the rafters serving as a backdrop for a twisted pile of metal and garbage that I know is an echo of a similar structure in a community garden on the lower East Side of Manhattan.

And the play began. The cast are for the most part relative newcomers to Broadway, having cut their not inconsiderable teeth touring with Rent as well as other shows. I think that Declan Rogers who played Roger had a cold- either that or a mouth-ful of marbles as he spent a great deal of the 75 minute 1st act mumbling his lyrics. I fully enjoyed the performances by Tamyra Gray- a former American Idol contestant and astonishing acrobat- her rendition of "Take Me Out" performed while looping her lithe frame through a metal banister 3 stories above the stage in high-heeled boots and skin tight electric blue latex pants literally took my breath away. And oh how I loved watching Justin Johnson as Angel leaping his way through "Today For You" in patent leather platform heels- you go...girl, kinda. Loved it.

I watched the show and tried to imagine what this all looked like in 1996 when it opened- when men kissing men and women kissing women and cross dressers kissing everyone would have been ground breaking. When tattered clothing onstage meant you were watching Les Mis or some other period piece that had nothing to do with the present time. When walking out to your car meant you might actually encounter a homeless guy with a squeegee.

And when AIDS was actually something new. A raging epidemic that outlaw groups like Act-Up were fighting and there was a question as to whether their guerilla tactics were effective or alienating. When the fight against AIDS was a street fight and newspaper headlines in less urban areas talked about the plague that was "killing all the right people."

Rent as a play felt a bit dated, with so much of the shock value gone from all the kissing and the street folk relegated to dark corners these days. But, as Angel was dying... as it happens every time I see it- I cried and cried, more than a bit aware that this might alarm VLH- who does not know me well enough to know how I feel about AIDS- not enough of my personal history to know that I held the man who made my wedding dress and walked me down the aisle as he lay dying in St. Vincent's of this disease. I looked around the theater and wondered, to all the young, healthy, mostly out-of-towners- was this a STORY? Because I know for me- at that moment it was NOT a story. It was a reminder. It has been awhile since I looked at the statistics- so I did and was sickened (statistics from http://www.until.org/statistics.shtml:

United States:

An estimated one million people are currently living with HIV in the United States, with approximately 40,000 new infections occurring each year.

75 percent of the new infections in women are heterosexually transmitted.

Half of all new infections in the United States occur in people 25 years of age or younger.

And in the larger world the story is worse

Over 22 million people have died from AIDS.

There are 14,000 new infections every day (95 percent in developing countries). HIV/AIDS is a "disease of young people" with half of the 5 million new infections each year occurring among people ages 15 to 24.

The UN estimates that, currently, there are 14 million AIDS orphans and that by 2010 there will be 25 million.

And if the larger world has an orphan issue with regards to AIDS, about 2 years ago I started volunteering to cook at God's Love We Deliver- www.glwd.org an organization which provides meals to homebound people with AIDS. They deliver over 3,000 meals a day in the NY Metro area. That in and of itself was a sad statistic to learn but what struck me was that 15% of those meals are for dependent children. 450 children who could lose their parents- it is amazing to me that the 14 million number does not affect me as those 450 do. Not because they are here- but because I cannot conceive of 14 million children left alone. The grief is unfathomable. For the 450- I can help, a little. So I chop onions.We each do what we can.

I guess what I want to say. Dated or no- marbles in the mouth or not. I want Rent to continue to run. If an audience member can care about the death of Angel, maybe they would be compelled to look a little further- be a bit more careful in how they conduct their sex life- maybe even send a dollar or chop an onion. But it is most important that people realize- it's not over. Our friends are still gone. And very young people will continue to die in staggering numbers. So it all helps. What was heartening was at the end of the show the audience rose to its feet and gave a standing ovation. I hope at least a few will be moved to do more.

Chasing the Eto

New Year's day brings with it many fine traditions like the consuming of black eyed
peas for luck. I think the tradition actually showed luck in and of itself as HAVING peas, a hock to cook them with and a pot in which to accomplish this were signs in and of themselves that you were pretty darned lucky to begin
with.

Nursing a sick head from too much wine or a sick stomach from too much food are also fine American traditions- as if somehow we need to punish ourselves for being well off. I decided this new year to A.) Be sensible and sensitive to the
needs of others and B.) Be more than a little cranky about it and C.) Be OK with that.

Fred had recently introduced me to a new concept. We were speaking about an aquaintance of his who recently did some THING (I forget what) for herself and stated she was NOT being selfish, she was ENTITLED. It became the theme for
my evening let someone else feed me and do for me and if I won at Candyland (which I did, beginners luck actually having never played before-) I was teaching the little guy good sportsmanship AND I was entitled. The crankiness? Well
after having absolutely no fun sharing my own crabby company I decided I was ENTITLED to a better time and took my grumpy butt to bed at 11:30. I was awoken at 12:08 and about every 4 minutes thereafter by well wishing friends who
were astonished I was asleep. I explained I was not asleep I was just answering the phone lying down with my eyes closed in pajamas and leaping to conclusions was no way for them to start a new year.

Bed was important as I had a plan for new years day. I was going to catch a mouse. Specifically an Eto. 2008 is the year of the Eto- the Japanese Good fortune Rat.

I met 'Neff at the Mitsuwa market a Japanese mall in Edgewater, NJ. I arrived at 9:00 that rainy morning and was met with a line of about a hundred slightly damp Asians awaiting the opening of the market. According to Keiko it is customary for Japanese folks to go out and celebrate on New Year's morning. Mitsuwa offered Taiko Drumming, Ceremonial Dragon Slaying, soft serve black sesame ice cream and the big draw the 1st 500 families would receive a free porcelain rat meant to bring luck in the coming year- the Eto.

I got mine, Neff got hers and we wandered Mitsuwa looking at...the everything. There was so much to see. Amazingly marbled Wagyu beef, a vast array of pickles, sake, ramen and gyoza all beautifully displayed. Even a lowly cello pack of okra was elevated to 'okura' giving it not only a certain Asian exotic-ness but an additional syllable as well.


New Year Cake


If I had 2 Etos- I'd give one to you...


Taiko Drummers




Mizuna


A whole LOT of sake


I am assuming this is a cocktail snack....

VLH joined us just in time for brunch. Mitsuwa offers a stunning array of Japanese and Chinese style foods as well as taking a stab at French and Italian inspired cuisine; offering croissants (stuffed with red bean paste) and soba noodles with baby clams served as ' linguine con vongole'. I was very pleased when the counter lady at the St. Honore bakery greeted me in English to be able to respond with my only complete and absolutely correct Japanese phrase " Shinnen akemashite
omedeto gozaymasu" Which I have believed for the past 25 years meant 'Happy New Year' in Japanese. Keiko, ever aware of my desire to learn and be appropriate in Japanese informs me that this phrase actually means "Happiness to you on the
dawn of the New Year's Day" basically I had until noon that day to say my one phrase and then it was another 364 days of waiting.

25 years ago I learned the phrase to impress a Japanese man named Alan that I had a crush on. I repeated it over and
over to myself for weeks and learned the night I actually SAID my hard-won greeting to him that A.) Alan was gay. And B.) Knew not one single word of Japanese. Looking back I cannot say which discovery upset me more but I know the
counter lady and the fifteen or so strangers I greeted this new year's morning at Mitsuwa appreciated my work all those years ago.



As I mentioned-VLH joined 'Neff and I for a gorgeous brunch in Mitsuwa's food court. H had been a bit late to the party and was so stunned by the museum-quality display of plastic food at Mitsuwa that he was launched into a sort of food fugue and rendered completely incapable of choosing a stall from which to purchase breakfast. It was a giddy state brought on by an excess of ...noodles and potstickers. All he kept muttering was... "I dunno- you pick and then I'll choose- I dunno, I dunno..." I was worried that drool was imminent or some form of spasm.

As I had arrived 2 hours earlier I had calmed down sufficiently to narrow the field. Eggs. Scrambled. Sounds like everyday fare in the U.S. of A. until you find that these particular eggs are scrambled with crab and served over rice with pork and scallions. Yum. H chose a plateful of plump pork-filled gyoza, pan fried and 'Neff a bowl of soba noodles with pork accompanied by rice covered in salmon roe and a somewhat ancient-looking hardboiled egg in what appeared to be soy sauce. The question for me was how in the world did the denizens of Mitsuwa market maintain such diminutive and trim stature? The portions were ENORMOUS!

As with many New Year's past, the post brunch activity was VERY serious napping. 'Neff went on to home and parents and VLH and I to our patriotic duty of sleeping off the effects of a Japanese super-sized brunch. A very pleasant way, in many ways, to spend a New Year's Day. Easy as snapping a garter. I did not miss the hangover or the black-eyed peas- not even a little.

I spent THIS weekend thinking about my good fortune- this the first weekend in recent memory that I spent on my own and I set myself (again crankily as I would rather have had company but did not provide any for myself- self imposed grouchiness-even worse) to straightening cabinets and closets and clearing things out for the new year. I found that I had at least two of everything, and sometimes more. As the afternoon wore on I also found the crankiness moving away and being replaced with a sense of awe. Maybe for the first time in my life, I have much more than I need. Especially of luck and prosperity. And it did not come by chance- just like my Eto- I went out and got it and more and more- like the Eto- good fortune and happiness comes to my door- free of charge, even if I'm too cranky at that moment to appreciate it. So next time I'm feeling a bit like this I can just reach over- grab my Eto- and remember to be grateful.

Shinen Akemashite Omedeto Gozymasu!