Ode to Lawn Guyland

Long Island. 


It's not so much a place as it is a state of mind.  Although it is often reviled for being tasteless, overpopulated and obnoxious, I have to give it credit where credit is due.  Honestly, this little string of shit hanging off New York's asshole has a lot of character.  And I say that with love--I'm not just an ornery Upstater who has only dealt with Long Islanders second hand, in the form of steroid-pumped SUNY going Guidos...No.  I was actually born in this fair land, and both of my parents are of Long Island-ese descent.  
I went with my mom to visit some of her friends from way back in the day, and I have to say I was reminded of some of the downright charming aspects of New York's boner.  


Top Awesome Things About Long Island (as usual, no particular order):


1) The Almost Universal Gaudiness. (Rampant materialism without discriminating taste.)
I mean, seriously--I found a gargantuan oil painting on the side of the road that looked like it was done in imitation of Sear's artwork. Yes, I am serious--it was so bad, it couldn't have even been actual Sears art.  The artist had to be the kind of derranged fuck who psychotically LOVED Sears decor, so much that he or she had to  try and recreate its legendary cheesiness.  To top it off, this gem was four feet by 6 feet, surrounded by a patterned gold frame.  And don't even get me started about the McMansions, omnipresent Baby Phat velour sweatsuits, or the Liberace-esque gold baubles draped over every man, woman, and Catholic child's pierced ears.  It's basically the most amazing thing ever. 


2)  The Italian Specialty Stores and Delis
Although the asthetic taste of some Long Islanders may leave something to be desired (like blindness, for example) their culinary taste is the exact opposite.  The things that come out of Long Island delis and Italian specialty stores are nothing less than magical.  If you've never had the pleasure of setting foot inside one of these fine establishments, just imagine this: A store within a strip mall, packed with fresh, colorful veggies and fruits, rows upon rows of exotic olive oils, and a trillion different kinds of cheese.  And that's just in the first few aisles.  Go to the back for a full deli with trays of fragrant basil, mozzarella and tomato salad, antipasto, and smoked meats lined up as if the food were a Tiffany's diamond showcase.  Throw in the fresh bread and rows of homemade desserts and you may as well throw your Buns of Steel video out of a speeding car on the Long Island Expressway. Which brings us to #3, speak of the devil...


3) The LIE and basically all driving on Long Island
Honestly.  You people who grew up and learned to DRIVE on Long Island, I applaud you.  The only thing that seems scarier than this is learning to drive in Manhattan.  Except for the fact that, oh--if you grew up in Manhattan, you probably never NEEDED TO LEARN HOW TO DRIVE.  Because of subways, taxis, and uh...walking.  Between the numerous exits clustered within 1.67 feet of each other, on-ramps that would give ample space only to merging matchbox car traffic, and the narrow lanes flanked by huge walls--you will certainly perish in a Die Hard-style fire ball if you even THINK about looking down to text while driving.  Not to mention that just about everyone drives a Mercedes SUV as if it were a small, but unnecessarily speedy tank. The only thing that grants a reprieve to L.I. driving is...


4) The H.O.V. Lane.  Aka: "High Occupancy Vehicle."  Basically, there is an extra lane for people who have three or more people in the car.  It's a free pass for carpoolers to go fast.  The H.O.V. lane would be great, except Long Islanders don't seem to understand that driving a BMW Boxster containing only themselves and their Labradoodle does not count as either "carpooling" or "high occupancy."  


5)  The Long Islanders' Family History
Is it just my family and everyone else I know, or did every single Long Island native's life happen as follows: A) Family of immigrants (or 2nd generation immigrants) moved from Bronx/Brooklyn/Queens to Long Island for cheap land and $19,000 ranch-style house in 1950's.  B) Family acclimates to suburbs, children ride bikes and go to school, become obsessed with The Beatles.  C) Children become hippies and rockers, rebelling against the suburban affluence and monotony of parents.  They forgo proms, start bands, and do copious amounts of drugs.  D) Later they have kids (Generations X and Y, namely: me) and brag about how they hid in a broom closet to see both Jethro Tull and Black Sabbath in one night while on acid.  Jesus H. Christ! The teen years just ain't what they were for Long Islanders!


6)  The High Ratio of Cigarette Smokers to Rest of NY population
Is it just me, or did pretty much ALL Long Islanders smoke at one time in their lives?  How many of them do you know that are "cutting down" or " trying to quit?"  Ask them when they started smoking--I find the median age seems to be around 10 1/2.  This vice probably has something to do with the cultivation of...


7) The Unmistakable Long Island Voice
Oh yeah...you KNOW what I'm talking about.  First of all, it's loud.  REALLY loud.  And heavily accented.  If you aren't familiar with this voice (and if you're from New York State, you must live under a rock if you haven't heard it) I will give you a "legend" of sorts to decode the language.  Rule #1: All 'r's at the end of words will be automatically changed to 'a's.  As in: "Rolla Derby," rather than "roller derby." Rule #2:  All a's at the end of words are changed to r's.  For example: If your name is "Jessica" as mine is, your Long Island parents will refer to you as, "Jessiker."  Rule #3: If you have a word that someone would say as an "ahhhh," it will be changed to "aw."  For instance: the word "ball" is pronounced "bawl," and "talk" is spoken like "tawk."  
Have fun practicing with these unique linguistic wonders.


8)  Omnipresence of "The City"


It's only about an hour away from the furthest point of Long Island, and it can be as close as 5 minutes from some Nassau County locales.  Long Islanders constantly talk about The City.  It is a behemoth that rules all life within 50 miles of its boundaries.  Honestly, I still get kind of excited with people constantly discussing it.  Ohhhh, by the way--don't EVER refer to any other metropolis as "The City" in earshot of a Long Islander.  There's a good chance you will be in the center of a brawl within seconds of the unfortunate comment. 


9) The Beaches


Hands down, the best virtue of Long Island.  Robert Moses, Sunken Meadow, Jones Beach, The Hamptons...They are all wonderful in their own way.  The sand is soft, shells are plentiful, and the seawater is very pleasant on a summer day. You can walk down the shore for a long time and find pieces of smooth wampum.  The thought of Northeastern Native Americans using these shells as currency blows my mind!  All you'd have to do is have the patience to collect a sizable cache, and you could trade it for any survival necessities. These are the cosmic things that enter my mind walking along  Long Island beaches.  The beach also conjures up my earliest memories--screaming with glee, hobbling to the sparkling ocean as far as my baby legs would carry me in the sand. 


It's the little things that make a place truly great.  My hat is off to you, Long Island!

Cognitive Therapy

Alright, so I have this really horrible problem--I don't want to share things I discover.  Art, movies, books/magazines, and ESPECIALLY music. When I find something I REALLY like...I hoard it all to myself; stroking it in private, muttering to myself about it incessantly, trying to keep it secret for my own selfish pride.  If someone tries to encroach on the thing, even unknowingly--I become ferocious, pouncing on the poor intruder with totally uncalled for jealousy and greed.

But, sometimes it happens that I feel a serious moral dilemma in not sharing said thing.  If the world would be worse off for my not sharing, then I have to think twice about keeping it to myself.  Could I really do that to humanity?

This is why, after a few days of deliberation, I am telling you guys about Cryptacize.

I went to see The Fiery Furnaces at Revolution Hall the other night, and Cryptacize (whom I had never heard of, prior) was the opening band.  I pretty much fell in love instantly.

They sound like a Zoe Deschanel fronted, Pet Sounds era Beach Boys, crossed with Deerhoof. (which is no surprise, since the guitarist is a former member of that band.) However, I think  Cryptacize is actually more accessible for audiences [than Deerhoof is] due to the fact that they write more relatable lyrics. (No offense, Deerhoof--you guys rock!)

The 1960's surf-y vibe is unmistakable, but it's not cutesy or stale sounding. This is probably due to the gorgeous female vocals, and the aforementioned real-life lyrics.   Every note oozes California nostalgia, in the best possible way. I must admit, I got a little teary-eyed at times...This band reminds me why I love the West Coast so much.

Start off with the impossibly catchy song, "Mane and Tail."  (Probably my favorite so far.) Then, move on to the coy warnings of "New Spell." And, if "Galvanize" doesn't make you want to blubber like an infant, you honestly have no soul.

After you hear these three songs, you might as well just throw your hands up and purchase Mythomania, the band's second album, in its entirety.  I am the kind of person that is...Well, kind of cheap.  We won't get into my heritage or other speculations as to why. The the fact of the matter is that I don't ever buy things unless I find it absolutely necessary.  If there is a song I really like, I will buy just that--one song...If there are no download options available.  (Probably, being broke has something to do with this.) However, this time I sashayed right over to itunes (with my fingers, anyway) and bought all of Mythomania.
It was $10 well spent, and I have no regrets.



I recommend you do the same.

Follow Up Post--"Where the Wild Things Are"

I know I went on a long and naysayer-ish rant about Where the Wild Things Are. I haven't changed my mind about the crappiness of the film.  On the contrary--I found a video that perfectly sums up my stance...With a good dose of humor.  Enjoy!

Sake Cafe in Slingerlands, NY

Tonight, Tommy and I had supper at the Sake Cafe in Slingerlands.  Sake Cafe is located in the Price Chopper Plaza off of Route 85.  Overall, this new eatery offers extremely delicious--but pricey--sushi and Asian fare.

Ambiance:  I didn't expect the restaurant to be as nice as it ended up being.  After all, it is in a strip mall, and it refers to itself as a "cafe."  However, as Tommy points out, I should have known better when it also referred to itself as; Asian "cuisine."  Cuisine usually constitutes a long sleeve shirt and slacks...Or something more presentable than rubber rain boots and a knit cap. The low lighting, long lacquered wood bar and white orchids in vases confirmed our suspicions and prompted us to order takeout. However, if I had showered today and dressed like less of a dirtbag, I would have liked to stay.

Service:  The hosts we dealt with were professional and friendly.  One of them was juggling a constant barrage of phone orders with customers coming in for take out orders, as well as assisting the sushi chef with prep work. I was pretty impressed with his juggling skillz.  Yes, I feel that his "skills" constituted the use of a "z."  The sushi chef probably could have used more help, though, because it took about half an hour for him to make the two small rolls that we ordered.  All good things typically require some time, but this was a little bit too long.

Food:  The menu consists of a nice variety of common soups, some popular Asian salad options, lots and lots of sushi, rounded out with some interesting beef, seafood and duck cold entrees.  Tommy ordered "Monkey Roll," which is described on the menu as: "shrimp tempura...avocado...With three different kind of spicy sauce."  Tommy described it as "Titillizing," which I take to be a combination of "titillating" and "tantalizing."  Either way, he gobbled it up in about 2 minutes.  Which was both good and bad--good because he loved it, and bad because there wasn't nearly enough food.
I ordered the "Spicy Girl Roll."  Spicy girl is a; "spicy crunchy tuna and salmon...With spicy crunchy yellowtail [tuna] and caviar served with special sauce." I LOVED this roll.  It was definitely one of the best sushi picks I've ever eaten.  The three different types of fish were distinguishable (and complimentary!) in taste, and the combination of soft and crunchy textures were delectable.  On top, the caviar was mild and delicate--a perfect finish with the yummy orange sauce.  I didn't even need the accompanying soy sauce.  There were two or three times when, I thought I might soil myself with culinary glee.  I won't specify which kind of "soil" I mean.

Price/Value:  This is where I was a little bit disappointed.  Don't get me wrong, the food was GREAT.  However, our total bill came to $24, and we only got two small rolls.  No appetizers, desserts, drinks, NADA.  Our rolls were very small--six to eight pieces per person.  There weren't any extras like a side order of salad, a few tempura shrimp/sweet potatoes, not even a little pile of edamame to sweeten the deal.

So, in closing--this is great food if you have tons of money to spend, and are looking for a super light dinner.  It's definitely a few steps above Price Chopper's sushi in both taste and selection.  I recommend instead going to Sushi Na-Ra in Clifton Park.  Prices are comparable to Sake Cafe, as is their caliber of taste, but they include the aforementioned soup, salad and a few yummy tempura goodies with most orders.

A Serious Man

I just saw the movie A Serious Man, by Joel and Ethan Coen, and I really enjoyed it.

First of all, the cinematography:  A Kodachrome representation of the cool 1960's hues covering squat houses with neat little lawns, kitsch living rooms and chrome boat-mobiles parked on gray gravel. This really transported me to a different time and place, but it didn't temper the timeless issues at hand in the plot.

 More than the visual alone was the superb juxtaposition of picture with interesting sound elements. The soundtrack consisted of mostly Jefferson Airplane's Surrealistic Pillow.  This is definitely odd set against Bar Mitzvahs, Hebrew school, ancient rabbis, and all the Geekdom that typically seems to accompany those elements. The apex of this arrived during an anecdotal scene about a dentist, set to Jimi Hendrix. Surprisingly, this really worked for me.  This audio-visual combo resulted in a fresh and subversive take on 1960's Surburban Jewish life, but in the understated manner which I've come to expect from the Coen Brothers.  
Of course, without a decent plot, none of this would have meant much.  The storyline was thought-provoking, and I found myself feeling calm and satisfied at the end of the film.  (I couldn't say the same for No Country For Old Men, which infuriated me, although I liked it overall.)
I feel that there were two main themes here:
1) Life is all about perspective, that is what makes it interesting.
2) Nothing is certain, except death...and uncertainty.

I think these are the two guiding themes of almost every movie The Coens have made.  I found it interesting that the two perspectives given were that of the father, Larry, and that of the son, Danny.  Larry worries about everything and thinks about big issues that have to do with God, his duties as a father and husband, the purpose of his existence, etc.  Danny, on the other hand is a 13-year old boy, and his only concerns are immediate ones: When he will repay his pot dealer, How he will get his walkman back from the Hebrew teacher, etc.  The ending (which I won't divulge) shows that whether you worry every minute away or go with the flow, your life's end doesn't justify the means to which you live your life.  The means is all that there is, and all that matters is living.  The manner in which we choose to live our lives is up to us, and anything could happen for good or bad.

If anyone else saw this film, let me know what you thought of it.  I'd like to discuss the final Rabbi who speaks with Danny but not Larry; and the respective resolutions of both Danny's and Larry's stories...