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Lady of the lake, version #938

Monday, May 18, 2015

Back Again


Although the weekend had a few high spots, overall the week in Santa Barbara was not one of my most stellar and memorable efforts. Receipts were meagre, buyers were largely unimpressed and I felt sick and exhausted all week.

So pooped that I wondered for a few days if I was on the verge of another heart episode and then felt almost relieved when I started having stomach trouble and realized that I had some kind of bug. My cardiologist actually called me one morning to have a serious discussion, when I told him about the last night's dinner he nearly had a coronary.

It is hard to sell when you feel like crap, I had a couple wins but worked my ass off for them. The guys next door thought it would be fun to parrot my sales pitch and exhortations out loud so that the buyers and I could hear the mimicry through the wall and that didn't exactly help either my final numbers or disposition any either.

Just a crappy week, didn't sleep well, hard Motel 6 bed, never felt right. Tough to bring your A game when you feel that bad. My pal thought it would be kind of funny to not let me forget that I was overweight pretty much 24/7. Hilarious.

I have had a good month and said at the onset that I was cool with whatever happened financially and I think I stayed pretty even but feeling lousy was another story.


The devil sitting on the top shelf is a ceramic I picked up in San Francisco.

I had figured out the the specific name but can't put my finger on it right now, but it is certainly an Oni, one of the mythical creatures of japan.

With horns, bloodshot eyes and a hairy belly, this chap cuts a fine figure.

For an in depth education on these minor monsters, you could do worse than take a look at Noriko Reider's Japanese Demon Lore, Oni from Ancient Times to the Present. Utah State University Press 2010.


Girl from Santa Barbara
I met some really interesting people at the show and had some rather deep conversations, often with people older than those I normally spend time with.

This pretty young girl was walking around in a vintage skirt and agreed to pose for me.











Edward Borein, The Moon Queen’s House Galvin 219, drypoint and etching 7 x 9″



I have a really good collection of Edward Borein prints and drawings and met some of the old ranchers and collectors from the Santa Barbara and Santa Ynez area that collected or were familiar with the vaunted Santa Barbara artist.

Very solid people. I really enjoyed my one on one's this week, financially fruitful or not.

Met a particularly nice costume designer along with her pal, the former newly liberated, who enjoyed my Robert Crumb ink drawing and we ventured into a great talk about her favorite band, the Jefferson Airplane, the Fillmore East, her old stomping ground, SDS and Bill Graham. My god, hippies make the best people, even when they grow up. You meet some people and know that they can instantly be a friend.

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Had some good food, mostly by myself; my coffee shop, Vices and Spices, an epic feed under the rain showers at La Super Rica, sopes and chuletas and bifstek street tacos. Washed down with the pulpy and phenomenal aqua de sandia, magnifico. Some Santa Barbarans sneer at La Spa Rica and swear that Los Agaves is better but it is definitely my kind of place. Inexpensive and made on the spot with strong, bold authentic flavors.

Went to Clementine's a few times, a real warhorse in Carpenteria. My buddy said that he didn't think any such place existed outside of the Upper peninsula of Michigan. Old plaid and colonial motif right out of Barbara Billingsley, more food than a human can or should reasonably eat, delicious fried chicken that had to be of mutant size and free pie with every dinner.

I went for the peach and coconut cream, both excellent. Great staff too, the second time we had a server that moonlighted as a comic. Good food, not pretentious in the least. Rick loved it.

Had good sushi another night, breakfast at my regular spots Garrett's and Jeannines. The latter is a foodie joint, the first is an old school diner. Both good, great bakery and adventurous menu at Jeannines. I sat at the bar and snooped. Chicken sausage scramble. Garrett's has a really good fry cook that moves like a boxer or dancer, Incredible economy of motion, a great fry cook is a work of art!

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I was so excited at cracking the million mark that I forgot my own wedding anniversary. I think Leslie initially forgot it as well, she did let me know but was very good about it. Shit.

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There's a lot of traffic in Santa Barbara. Don't think I would want to live there either. Ditto La Jolla, Laguna, Newport, Carmel or a lot of other places that used to be epic and are still exalted. I hate compression, it's a deal killer for me, not that I will ever have the bread to live in one of those tony places anyway.

Took about two and a half hours to pack out, a bit slow for me. Got home near midnight. Was screaming the last hour a little bit to wake myself up but it was the last pitch and I just had to reach my target. Gritted it out.

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Great to be home. Met a half coyote named Wiley this morning. His adopted mother picked him up as a pup in the hills of South Texas.


JB sends this picture from this morning's drive to Anchorage.


Toni and Neil K sprucing up their mural at the Village Square.


4 comments:

Max Hall said...

Oh look there's a Blue Heron over Toni's shoulder. Always an interesting view of life from his lofty perch.

Jack said...

Sorry you had a shitty trip (not completely, but I got the vibe) and glad you are home. Rest and feel better,

Love

Johnny (Jack, he he)

Helen Bauch McHargue said...

Few people appreciate the grace and multi-tasking achievements of a fry cook. There's a "zone" you get into when flooded with orders and things are rolling along. When I developed products for restaurants, I'd try to work the line while a dish was being tested to see how it would fit in the mix. It surprised me how much I liked the feeling of it.

Blue Heron said...

I should have expounded on the fry cook. In one continuous sweeping motion, with a single hand, he grabbed an egg, punched a hole in it with his thumb, opened it on the griddle and had the shell in the trash. One move, less than a second.