Connie Marrero, 102, Dies; Starred in Cuba and Majors, by Richard Goldstein (NYT)
“He was a wily, chunky guy, always with a cigar, even on the bench,” Wolff told The New York Times. “He could really make the ball do tricks. He was an excellent pitcher on a lousy team.”
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Cuban baseball legend dies.
This is a wonderful short obit, packed with atmosphere and information -- about baseball, international relations, and an ebullient personality.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Speaking of infill housing for those vacant lots ...
Mr. and Mrs. Confidential have decided this would be our chosen design if we were to downsize and build a house on one of the vacant lots that Dan Coffey mentioned yesterday at the redevelopment meeting.
Don't you think it's time to spice up the historic areas with some punchy, efficient modern design?
Photo credit
Dan Coffey says sensible things about infill.
On duty at yesterday's redevelopment confab, during which most of the time was spent accepting bids from the usual construction and design suspects, councilman Dan Coffey got real.
EMPTY HOUSES
Commission and New Albany City Council members Dan Coffey and John Gonder will head up a committee to look at ways to partner with private contractors to build homes in empty lots around the city.
“The city owns hundreds of lots,” Coffey told the members. “I would like to work with the public and private sector where a builder could buy a lot for a nominal fee and try to get some houses built instead of torn down.”
The committee will gather the information and report back to the commission.
If properly directed, territorial pissing might serve to fertilize the plants.
Three weeks ago, I devoted a column to this very topic.
Before we turn to the newspaper's coverage, consider this.
Both Clean and Green and the city of New Albany want to beautify New Albany. However, consensus on the meaning of the word "beautification" is non-existent, and there exists no plan or template to achieve it. Might this absence of a mission statement be the basic reason for the disagreement?
Perhaps if there were a summit of sorts -- a public open house or meeting, no less -- of interested parties, there might emerge a basic plan, to which responsibilities could be assigned, and rowing in the same direction of beautification actually facilitated.
It's what I'd do if I were mayor.
Or does this make way too much sense for New Albany?
ON THE AVENUES: Inkem binkem notamus rex, protect us all from the city with the hex.
... Thus ensued a textbook illustration of the city’s innate, enduring, politicized dysfunction; with any semblance of compromise yanked inelegantly from the table, a Keystone Kops movie broke out, the city moving with uncommon, absurd and perhaps even surreal speed to remove the offending planters, while Clean and Green’s own volunteers were racing just as quickly to move their dirt bowls out of the way, or collect them altogether, before the other side got to them first.
That’s right. They’re adults … at least in a chronological sense.
Before we turn to the newspaper's coverage, consider this.
Both Clean and Green and the city of New Albany want to beautify New Albany. However, consensus on the meaning of the word "beautification" is non-existent, and there exists no plan or template to achieve it. Might this absence of a mission statement be the basic reason for the disagreement?
Perhaps if there were a summit of sorts -- a public open house or meeting, no less -- of interested parties, there might emerge a basic plan, to which responsibilities could be assigned, and rowing in the same direction of beautification actually facilitated.
It's what I'd do if I were mayor.
Or does this make way too much sense for New Albany?
A MAKEOVER OR A TAKEOVER? New Albany Clean and Green, mayor butt heads ... Beautification group says it wants to improve city; mayor says rules must be followed, by Daniel Suddeath (N and T)
NEW ALBANY — Keep New Albany Clean and Green was established with the goal of beautifying the city, but the organization has spent much of its time weeding through issues with the city’s administration.
From disagreements over planters to a stop-work order on the rehabilitation of Town Clock Church, Mayor Jeff Gahan’s administration and the New Albany Board of Public Works and Safety have had more than a round or two of sparring with the organization.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Denver localism: "I'm not a beer snob. I just prefer to drink good beer."
It's worth noting that the Mile High Business Alliance in Denver is not an organization strictly dedicated to locally brewed beer. It merely sees locally brewed beer as an apt expression of localism in a more comprehensive sense ... and it is.
While politicians and pundits trade theories on how to stimulate the economy, the folks at Mile High Business Alliance are digging in and doing it.
The Alliance maintains that every dollar spent locally circulates at least three times more than one spent with a non-locally owned corporation or chain. Through programs such as the Colorado Local First Campaign and Local Flavor Guides, which celebrate the character of neighborhoods such as LoHi and SoBo. MHBA encourages everyone to direct at least 10 percent of their spending to businesses that sprout from Colorado soil.
The organization also maintains a user-friendly online guide to Colorado businesses. True, MHBA doesn't yet represent all 500,000 of the locally owned businesses in Colorado. But their clever campaigns ("My local coffee shop can kick your corporate coffee shop's ass," reads one MHBA-produced poster) spread awareness about the power of how and where we spend our dollars.
It perfectly encapsulates my viewpoint as to the marriage of localism and better beer.
Hurricane -- the man, the cause, the Dylan song.
Rubin "Hurricane" Carter has died.
From a personal standpoint, I mention this primarily because while it may seem trite to some, I thought Bob Dylan's song was inspiring back in 1975. If my memory is to be trusted, I bought the 45 rpm single, which had to be flipped over to continue the song. Or maybe not, and I'm thinking about the full version released on Desire the following year.
"Hurricane" by Bob Dylan and Jacques Levy ... the lyrics.
A video; ignore the visuals and just listen.
From a personal standpoint, I mention this primarily because while it may seem trite to some, I thought Bob Dylan's song was inspiring back in 1975. If my memory is to be trusted, I bought the 45 rpm single, which had to be flipped over to continue the song. Or maybe not, and I'm thinking about the full version released on Desire the following year.
"Hurricane" by Bob Dylan and Jacques Levy ... the lyrics.
A video; ignore the visuals and just listen.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Seattle: A street doubling as a park. Can it be done here? Let's ask John.
NA Confidential asked John "The Rasputin of Redevelopment" Rosenbarger:
"Here in New Albany, where you've ceaselessly toiled for three decades amid the mouth breathers, would it be possible to shrink a two-lane, one-way street into a partial park without bonding $19 million from TIF?"
His interpreter provides the answer.
It's a park. It's a street. Is it safe?, by Marc Stiles (Puget Sound Business Journal)
... If you haven't been paying attention, construction crews from AGR Construction of Monroe have been working on Bell Street between First and Fifth avenues to make this road part street and part park ...
... You don't have to be an urban policy wonk to see how the $5 million project has significantly altered the character of the area. The two-lane, one-way street was a straight shot with parking on both sides. As part of an extreme "road diet," curbs were removed to create a flat surface the entire length and width of the right-of-way that today is dotted with planters and street furniture along the new roadway that slightly meanders and has just one lane for cars.
It's a grand experiment with the result being like no other street in downtown Seattle. Some people will love it, and some will hate it. Either way, expect to see more street parks in Seattle, where two similar projects already are under way ...
New Albany does Stonehenge.
But we don't stop there. We think Stone Age, too.
Is it a picnic area for giants? A conceptual monument to the former city dump? Or, just some rocks we left lying around?
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Easter reading 3: "Easter is a pagan festival."
There's the Easter trifecta: The death of a hypocritical Christian; an atheists' convention; and a final dose of pagan symbolism.
The pagan roots of Easter, by Heather McDougall (Guardian)
From Ishtar to Eostre, the roots of the resurrection story go deep. We should embrace the pagan symbolism of Easter
Easter is a pagan festival. If Easter isn't really about Jesus, then what is it about? Today, we see a secular culture celebrating the spring equinox, whilst religious culture celebrates the resurrection. However, early Christianity made a pragmatic acceptance of ancient pagan practices, most of which we enjoy today at Easter. The general symbolic story of the death of the son (sun) on a cross (the constellation of the Southern Cross) and his rebirth, overcoming the powers of darkness, was a well worn story in the ancient world. There were plenty of parallel, rival resurrected saviours too.
Easter reading 2: An atheist gathering deep in the heart of Mormon.
Who knew we had an association?
I mean, one of the best parts of being an atheist is not having to belong to anything, or to articulate a "positive" approach in the sense of evangelizing nothingness.
As I've noted previously in this space:
But atheists the new Mormons? Er, no thanks. I'll stay an indie, thank you very much.
I mean, one of the best parts of being an atheist is not having to belong to anything, or to articulate a "positive" approach in the sense of evangelizing nothingness.
As I've noted previously in this space:
Why must an atheist (like me) be compelled to articulate a “positive” approach, when atheism at root merely describes the absence of belief in unseeable, unknowable and unprovable supreme beings?
Negation is inevitable in the sense of my being without personal belief in phantasmogoria. When any such solid evidence in support of a deist's perspective should appear, I'm ready to consider it. Until then, there is nothing.
It is superfluous for either deist or atheist to imply that atheism must present a “positive” platform or doctrine. Supernaturally speaking, nothing from nothing equals nothing. Unlike religion's confusing and contradictory directives, we as atheists needn't flail ineffectually in the search for something that can be artificially tied to supernatural sanction as stated by scatter-shot "holy" books.
But atheists the new Mormons? Er, no thanks. I'll stay an indie, thank you very much.
Are Atheists the New Mormons?, by Michael Schulson (The Daily Beast)
Atheists are holding their annual convention in Salt Lake City, but things have been surprisingly cordial. Maybe these uniquely American groups have more in common than they think.
It’s a bit like holding the Republican National Convention in Berkeley: This weekend, the American Atheists are gathering in Salt Lake City for their annual conclave. Attendees can hear a keynote speech by outspoken former Vikings punter Chris Kluwe, attend workshops with titles like “So you want to debate Christians?” and mingle during a karaoke night and a costume dinner.
Easter reading 1: Charles Keating returns to room temperature.
From just this one obituary, a space alien might grasp American culture at its root.
Charles Keating: Crusader and fraud
Charles Keating, moral crusader and financial snake-oil salesman, died on March 31st, aged 90
... Mr Keating was so doughty in this holy war that Richard Nixon appointed him in 1969 to the national commission on obscenity. When the commission produced a feeble report, Mr Keating dissented. He wrote that “Never in Rome, Greece or the most debauched nation in history has such utter filth been projected to all parts of a nation.” At meetings of his 300-chapter organisation, Citizens for Decency through Law, he would stride round with a big red Bible in his hand. Sundays saw him devoutly at Mass, with thousands of dollars given to Catholic causes. Such was his local influence that when the Supreme Court ruled that obscenity should be judged by “community standards”, every adult theatre in Cincinnati closed down.
Strange, then, that this knight on a white charger—as he saw himself—was also the man who bilked 23,000 investors out of their savings. The total loss was $250m-288m, and the cost to the taxpayer $3.4 billion ...
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Let's just say that I won't be counting on Louisville.com to crusade for truth and accuracy any time soon.
At the risk of my eyeglasses taking on a rose-colored hue not previously mandated by the optometrist, wasn’t there a time when “media” (a loaded term, indeed) incorporated into its daily mission some semblance of commitment to getting basic information right?
I don’t mean to imply matters like editorial judgments, with which we all can merrily debate, but just basic facts: Times, dates, addresses and the like. These are the sort of elementary listings that should be easiest to get right, and when they aren't, we see corrections all of the time, whether in print or electronically.
The electronic media probably performs no worse in terms of accuracy than old-school print, given the latter's salacious and scurrilous salad days, but every now and then, it's useful to be reminded of why the Internetz cannot always be trusted. As evidence of the lamentably scattershot world we currently inhabit, indulge me while I tell a story.
It all began with a posting by Alexis Messmer at Louisville.com on March 27, in which the city of New Albany was highly praised. So far, so good, in a buffed 'n' polished, chamber of commerce sort of way, except that amid the boosterism, the brief description of my business interests was badly skewed, and required correction.
I sent a request for these corrections to Louisville.com by way of its website reply form, and heard nothing back. A few days later, on Twitter (April 3), I managed to get through with a message to the editor, Elizabeth Myers, and explained the problems with NABC’s citation in the original story, which began with the heading itself: “New Albanian Brew Company Pizzeria.”
First, it is inaccurate. The name of the company is New Albanian Brewing Company, not "Brew," and the full name of the location in question is Pizzeria & Public House, which a cursory visit to our web site will confirm.
What's more, the inaccurate heading doubled as a hyperlink, errantly leading not to the pizzeria’s section of the company website, but to the Bank Street Brewhouse listing therein. Here is the text of Messmer's original posting.
I offered other necessary corrections beyond the heading/hyperlink error, because as those familiar with NABC can see quite easily, the author had mixed various elements from two distinct locations into one misleading mishmash.
To the editor, I pointed to the mixed blessings inherent in the rapid sharing of fundamentally flawed and garbled information.
Here is the editor’s reply, also on April 3:
Thus, we were completely expunged from the article, and I began looking periodically to see if corrections had been made. Crickets chirped; pins dropped. No correction was forthcoming, and so I decided to check back on the morning of April 18.
The reply came later on the 18th.
In short: As the person in charge, what do you expect out of me -- results? Let's try to absorb this stunning admission of editorial and administrative impotence.
An an entertainment news “source” deriving content from amateurs, free-lancers and interns. Louisville.com relies entirely on them to make corrections of their own mistakes, with cooperation purely optional, even when the corrections already have been provided free of charge, and although the editor, ostensibly better trained at some variety of “journalism” than these randomly selected contributors, cannot herself incorporate these proffered corrections, she can casually ask the contributors to do it if and when they wish – and anyway, after a certain amount of time, the whole shebang is dated, and no one, least of all the editor, cares any longer about what’s accurate and what is not … and golly, maybe next time one of our writers spins the coverage wheel, it will turn out better. Maybe.
It's just plain breathtaking, isn't it?
If NABC paid these people for advertising, I wonder if the listing would be corrected, or merely offered to the originator for improvement if the chance arose -- no hurry or anything, and by the way, can you please provide more content, accurate or otherwise?
It's "The Front Page" for modern times, I suppose. Is it any wonder I’m bitter about the state of the information nation?
I don’t mean to imply matters like editorial judgments, with which we all can merrily debate, but just basic facts: Times, dates, addresses and the like. These are the sort of elementary listings that should be easiest to get right, and when they aren't, we see corrections all of the time, whether in print or electronically.
The electronic media probably performs no worse in terms of accuracy than old-school print, given the latter's salacious and scurrilous salad days, but every now and then, it's useful to be reminded of why the Internetz cannot always be trusted. As evidence of the lamentably scattershot world we currently inhabit, indulge me while I tell a story.
It all began with a posting by Alexis Messmer at Louisville.com on March 27, in which the city of New Albany was highly praised. So far, so good, in a buffed 'n' polished, chamber of commerce sort of way, except that amid the boosterism, the brief description of my business interests was badly skewed, and required correction.
I sent a request for these corrections to Louisville.com by way of its website reply form, and heard nothing back. A few days later, on Twitter (April 3), I managed to get through with a message to the editor, Elizabeth Myers, and explained the problems with NABC’s citation in the original story, which began with the heading itself: “New Albanian Brew Company Pizzeria.”
First, it is inaccurate. The name of the company is New Albanian Brewing Company, not "Brew," and the full name of the location in question is Pizzeria & Public House, which a cursory visit to our web site will confirm.
What's more, the inaccurate heading doubled as a hyperlink, errantly leading not to the pizzeria’s section of the company website, but to the Bank Street Brewhouse listing therein. Here is the text of Messmer's original posting.
New Albanian Brew Company Pizzeria: The New Albanian offers bistro cuisines that are accompanied by their own house beers. You can check out what’s on tap on their website for the full list of beer choices. They offer drink specials throughout the week and Sunday brunch. Be prepared to call a cab, because drinking one beer won’t be enough. Don’t forget to try to the Hoosier Daddy, Crimson and Cream ale paired with pizza, bread sticks, and beer cheese. YUM!
I offered other necessary corrections beyond the heading/hyperlink error, because as those familiar with NABC can see quite easily, the author had mixed various elements from two distinct locations into one misleading mishmash.
NABC has two on-premise locations, and we sell our beer to other
establishments through the normal distribution channels.
NABC Pizzeria & Public House
3312 Plaza Drive (off Grant Line Road)
NABC Bank Street Brewhouse
415 Bank Street (downtown)
After the incorrect (and broken) link, she mentions bistro cuisine … which is served at Bank Street Brewhouse, not the incorrectly named and linked “New Albanian Brew Company Pizzeria.” She is correct that beers are listed at the website, but the link is wrong. Did she even go to the web site?
Drink specials are the same at both locations. She mentions brunch, which is only at BSB, not the Pizzeria location. Finally, after trying to link the Pizzeria to Bank Street, she talks about the pizza – which is at the Pizzeria, not Bank Street (where the link would have taken folks if not broken).
To the editor, I pointed to the mixed blessings inherent in the rapid sharing of fundamentally flawed and garbled information.
It’s nice for both of us (NABC and Louisville.com) that the piece is being forwarded and linked electronically, but this paragraph is so muddled that I’m not sure it helps us very much. In short, for someone reading this without prior knowledge, it's likely to convey the impression that we serve pizza at BSB.
Beyond that, and while conceding that I can be an ass of epic dimension, getting some basic facts arranged correctly strikes me as a prerequisite of someone purporting to contribute content to a web site like yours. I know; I'm old, and have old-fashioned expectations. The NABC web site is fairly clear about it; the two locations have separate pages, and the descriptions are accurate. But the URL has to be right for it all to matter.
Here is the editor’s reply, also on April 3:
It is not old-fashioned for a business owner to have high expectations regarding the information distributed about his or her business. The web makes it far more difficult to do so, but I certainly understand your predicament.
I have removed the offending paragraph, so the article now has no reference to your business. I will forward your email to the writer (who happens to be a college intern in our office) and hopefully she can re-add the paragraph and correctly note the information you have so kindly given.
Again, so sorry you've had a negative experience. We are working very hard on a site redesign, and we have had a few server outages in the past weeks, so perhaps that is why your contact did not go through. In general it is best to contact me by email this address.
Thank you for your contact, and I hope you have a wonderful day, please let me know if I can be of further service.
Thus, we were completely expunged from the article, and I began looking periodically to see if corrections had been made. Crickets chirped; pins dropped. No correction was forthcoming, and so I decided to check back on the morning of April 18.
Three weeks since the original piece ... two weeks since we exchanged thoughts ... and the net result, as it appears now, is that my being a business owner with high expectations translates into permanent removal from an article, merely because I pointed out not just one, but several errors.
Before I write about this experience on my blog, I'm just curious to know if this was the intended outcome from the start. Would it have been better for me to say nothing and tolerate the errors, because at least then the reference would remain?
I must say, all of this confuses me.
The reply came later on the 18th.
I am very sorry you've had a negative experience. In general, when an error on the site is pointed out to me I do my best to fix it right away. As I am personally unfamiliar with your business, I removed the paragraph entirely, to avoid the continued distribution of any misinformation.
Certainly it was not the preferred outcome for your business to be removed entirely from the article. The site is run mostly on contributions from freelance writers, and when a larger rewrite or edit is needed I contact the author of the article in question. I forwarded your email to the writer in this case, and it looks like she made the decision not to include your business in the article. I would guess that decision had to do with timing; as I'm sure you know, the site updates daily, and by the time you and I had our exchange, the article in question was completely "off the radar".
We do our best to make the site informative, fun to read and well written, and I am constantly working on the balance of content and quality. I appreciate your patience in dealing with us and pointing out our error; believe me, we love to know when we can fix a problem. I hope in the future one of our writers will cover your business in a more detailed and helpful way.
Have a great weekend
In short: As the person in charge, what do you expect out of me -- results? Let's try to absorb this stunning admission of editorial and administrative impotence.
An an entertainment news “source” deriving content from amateurs, free-lancers and interns. Louisville.com relies entirely on them to make corrections of their own mistakes, with cooperation purely optional, even when the corrections already have been provided free of charge, and although the editor, ostensibly better trained at some variety of “journalism” than these randomly selected contributors, cannot herself incorporate these proffered corrections, she can casually ask the contributors to do it if and when they wish – and anyway, after a certain amount of time, the whole shebang is dated, and no one, least of all the editor, cares any longer about what’s accurate and what is not … and golly, maybe next time one of our writers spins the coverage wheel, it will turn out better. Maybe.
It's just plain breathtaking, isn't it?
If NABC paid these people for advertising, I wonder if the listing would be corrected, or merely offered to the originator for improvement if the chance arose -- no hurry or anything, and by the way, can you please provide more content, accurate or otherwise?
It's "The Front Page" for modern times, I suppose. Is it any wonder I’m bitter about the state of the information nation?
Answer the question, John Rosenbarger: Can Jeff Speck's ideas work here, or not?
Jeff Speck was in town this week to take his first detailed gander at New Albany's antiquated, Caesar-Standard street , and I was reminded that at several junctures during the past six months, planning Machiavellian John "Just call me Gail Wynand" Rosenbarger has been given credit for connecting Speck with the city.
In a literal sense, I won't dispute it, although button-pushing is a display of manual dexterity, nothing more.
When it comes to the bigger picture, recent months have amply illustrated Rosenbarger's decades-long double public life, in which he constantly assures the progressive-minded of his victimhood at the cruel altar of politics, whilst at the same time tightening the vise of political cruelty through inaction, and appeasing unreconstructed Heavrinites by doing next to nothing to align New Albany's infrastructure with a contemporary world.
If Elvis were to return, he'd no doubt say to John Rosenbarger, "A little less conversation, a little more action please."
Rosenbarger would reply with a stream of the usual vacuous nonsense, and endorse another paycheck, and those two bicycle lanes on Spring Street would continue to run in the same direction down a one-way arterial street, from nowhere to nowhere, uncontrolled traffic actively discouraging their use, with Rosenbarger eager to cite them as proof of his achievements.
Which, of course, they are.
I'm reminded of a February chat between Rosenbarger and a city resident, reported to me after the fact amid much head scratching and puzzlement. Paraphrased, the conversation was reported as such:
Rosenbarger's appearance at the FAN Fair followed much the same script, including open public doubt as to whether what he is paid to do, can ever actually be done in this city.
It begs a rather obvious question:
Then why pay you at all?
In a literal sense, I won't dispute it, although button-pushing is a display of manual dexterity, nothing more.
When it comes to the bigger picture, recent months have amply illustrated Rosenbarger's decades-long double public life, in which he constantly assures the progressive-minded of his victimhood at the cruel altar of politics, whilst at the same time tightening the vise of political cruelty through inaction, and appeasing unreconstructed Heavrinites by doing next to nothing to align New Albany's infrastructure with a contemporary world.
If Elvis were to return, he'd no doubt say to John Rosenbarger, "A little less conversation, a little more action please."
Rosenbarger would reply with a stream of the usual vacuous nonsense, and endorse another paycheck, and those two bicycle lanes on Spring Street would continue to run in the same direction down a one-way arterial street, from nowhere to nowhere, uncontrolled traffic actively discouraging their use, with Rosenbarger eager to cite them as proof of his achievements.
Which, of course, they are.
I'm reminded of a February chat between Rosenbarger and a city resident, reported to me after the fact amid much head scratching and puzzlement. Paraphrased, the conversation was reported as such:
1. Dude (Rosenbarger) talks a lot, says nothing. I was there to get/share info about using a
public space. He thought it was really important that I know what all his kids are
doing, for some reason. That was the first hour.
2. In order to get back to the streets/sidewalk topic, I brought up the Speck
presentation. Rosenbarger then launched into a lengthy diatribe about how something
like that could never work here. Geez, what a negative guy.
Rosenbarger's appearance at the FAN Fair followed much the same script, including open public doubt as to whether what he is paid to do, can ever actually be done in this city.
It begs a rather obvious question:
Then why pay you at all?
Jeff Speck in New Albany: “I’ve never seen anything like that in America."
Jeff Speck's reconnoitering of New Albany eluded the News and Tribune's grasp, although the more "local" of our two chain newspapers did manage a bold pitch for Christianity.
Fortunately, the C-J's Grace Schneider catches the priceless moment when Speck repeats the timeless question most asked about this city in general terms:
OMG, what were they thinking?
(Incidentally, the answer is pure Ockham: They weren't.)
As a side note, given the historic obliviousness of the populace, Grace's piece will be the first inkling for many that such a concept as walkability even exists. The reaction may be instructive. Or, this being Apathy City, it may not.
Walkability advocate studying New Albany street grid
City planner and architectural designer Jeff Speck stood in the middle of Market Street in New Albany last Wednesday, making notes and puzzling over something he claims he’d never seen before in his travels to dozens of cities each year.
Two short blocks between his position at Hauss Square and State Street feature a grassy, shrub-filled median dividing Market Street — with both lanes of traffic running eastbound.
“I’ve never seen anything like that in America,” Speck said, because medians imply two-way traffic.
Life on Padgett Avenue.
How do future street grid changes factor Padgett's need to move block-long cranes and ancillary vehicles, generally oversized, along the company's currently preferred route -- using 4th Street as the axis, anchored to Elm and Spring?
It's both a serious and legitimate question, isn't it?
Friday, April 18, 2014
Making sausage.
Yesterday I remarked to the Bookseller that I can see editorial cartoons in my head, but lack the ability to draw. But where there's a will, there's a way.
Merchant Meeting ... Tuesday April 29th, 8:30 a.m.
Will the fried chicken be ready that early?
This meeting represents an effort to revive what used to be called "Merchant Mixer" gatherings, the most (in)famous of which was in 2011, and featured Councilman CeeSaw uttering the immortal words:
Emperor Caesar in 2011: "Change every street to two way (but) not Pearl Street. Pearl Street will NOT be two way."
As we await the inevitable self-immolation (with novelty cigarette lighter), here's Stefanie Griffith with the merchant meeting details.
---
Hi everyone wanted to let you know we are having a merchant meeting at Daisy's Country Cooking on Tuesday April 29th from 8:30-9:30, please help spread the word to your neighbors!
The plan is to start having monthly meetings again so we are able to plan events and pass information.
At this one we will talk about Night Out New Albany, a new event similar to the trolley hops in Louisville with a twist, have introductions because we have so many new neighbors and get your input, concerns, idea's so we will know more about what areas we need to be working on.
See you then and remember please tell your neighbors, the more of us that are on the same page the more we will all grow!
This meeting represents an effort to revive what used to be called "Merchant Mixer" gatherings, the most (in)famous of which was in 2011, and featured Councilman CeeSaw uttering the immortal words:
Emperor Caesar in 2011: "Change every street to two way (but) not Pearl Street. Pearl Street will NOT be two way."
As we await the inevitable self-immolation (with novelty cigarette lighter), here's Stefanie Griffith with the merchant meeting details.
---
Hi everyone wanted to let you know we are having a merchant meeting at Daisy's Country Cooking on Tuesday April 29th from 8:30-9:30, please help spread the word to your neighbors!
The plan is to start having monthly meetings again so we are able to plan events and pass information.
At this one we will talk about Night Out New Albany, a new event similar to the trolley hops in Louisville with a twist, have introductions because we have so many new neighbors and get your input, concerns, idea's so we will know more about what areas we need to be working on.
See you then and remember please tell your neighbors, the more of us that are on the same page the more we will all grow!
Thursday, April 17, 2014
SCOOP: The Freedom to Screech pavilion during Thunder.
"Hi, I'm a friend and supporter of Freedom Of Speech -- can you direct me to their reserved seats?"
"Of course, madam ... right this way."
ON THE AVENUES: Breakfast is better with kippers.
ON THE AVENUES: Breakfast is better with kippers.
A weekly web column by Roger A. Baylor.
Scoff if you wish, but I like to eat fish for breakfast.
Among the rotating selections from the cupboard at dawn’s early light are pungent smoked kippers and crackers; piquant pickled herring on buttered rye bread; and on special occasions, lox with the requisite bagel, cream cheese and just a light sprinkling of capers. On special occasions, just for garnish, there’ll be a garlic-stuffed olive.
Yes, there are repercussions to such preferences. From nowhere, impatient cats find me as I’m walking down alleyways, and they make an eager, impromptu parade. Some mornings I get in a hurry, forget to brush my teeth, and inadvertently breathe on a prim, proper, crisply suited banker – and he wilts, as though beaned on the noggin by a stray aesthetic revelation.
If it doesn’t render the banker entirely unconscious, I’ll breathe on him a second time. That usually does it.
It’s clear: I like deceased marine life in the morning. Captain Crunch isn’t even close. Pop Tarts need not apply. Eggs will do, when pickled. Breakfast fish is real food for real people.
Obviously, these dining strategies are best complemented by stiff, aromatic black coffee, such as that produced through the saving grace of our home Saeco espresso maker. As side orders, just for balance amid the oil, vinegar and brine, properly bitter orange marmalade on toast and the occasional serving of Greek-style yogurt with fruit work quite well. Indeed, pungency settles the humors.
Until the pallid likes of Bob Evans and Cracker Barrel grasp the eternal wisdom of gustatory treats like these, it’s hard for me to take them seriously as contenders for my early morning dollars. May these franchised monuments to white bread, Velveeta and decaf never, ever besmirch the shining shores of Scandinavia, where so many years ago I learned to eat breakfast right.
---
It was in Oslo, Norway, that I experienced pickled herring for the very first time, almost 30 years ago. Thanks to a tremendous, short-lived exchange rate in 1985, Scandinavia briefly became almost affordable, and when I stepped off the overnight train from Copenhagen to explore Oslo’s main station in search of a bite to eat, a handy restaurant with an all-you-can-eat buffet actually was reasonably priced.
For the budget traveler, buffets meant two or maybe even three meals, not just one. A clean freezer bag could be stuffed full of meat and cheese when no one was looking. I went for it, and during the course of gorging on the goodies, noticed three ceramic pots positioned behind the rest of the food.
My guess was jam, and with curiosity aroused, I removed the lid and reached for the spoon … which was a fork. It didn’t smell anything like fruit, and the funky aroma tickled my proboscis. I hadn’t ever eaten pickled herring, not once, but I knew what it was when the filet was impaled on the fork. It was love at first chew.
Later that week in Bergen, Norway, I treated myself to a culinary splurge. For three hours at lunchtime, a renowned local eatery ran an all-you-can eat seafood buffet for the equivalent of $15. Bearing in mind that my daily budget for lodging, meals and alcohol was $25, this was a budget-buster, but the fact that it has lingered in my memory three decades later attests to the correctness of the decision to abandon fiscal rectitude.
The buffet served as a rube’s introduction to smoked salmon, something quite rare in the rural, corn-fed Indiana of my youth. In 1985, I had no way of knowing the same-but-different confluences between Norwegian smoked salmon and Jewish lox (the latter cultural norms just as uncommon as Vikings in Baptist-laced Hoosierland), or the meticulous strategies for preparing such treats, which are every bit as traditional, proud and locally varied as American barbecue methodology.
I just liked it. A lot.
The summer of 1985 was a veritable appetizer, and an introduction to all things European. I was enamored of the continent, and have remained so these many years hence. Specifically, engaging in strange, subversive encounters with un-American methods of consuming fish became a thread running through subsequent journeys, from pie, mash eel and liquor (gravy) in London just last summer, ranging back to the snack tray at Suzanne’s wedding on the Baltic in 1996, which included a different species of eel, this time smoked.
But my single proudest moment came when I enjoyed the distinction of being the oddball foreigner who introduced my pals, the Copenhagen residents, to the grandeur of the Faergekro restaurant at Nyhavn (“new” harbor) in their own city.
The daily herring buffet is a highlight of western civilization. At least ten varieties of pickled herring (with sour cream, curry and Madeira sauce, among others) are offered, along with dense dark bread, butter, and garnishes like raw egg, onion and caper berry. Whole smoked herrings are carved from the bone and replenished.
Beer is available, as well as Akvavit (Scandinavian schnapps), with the wonderful northern custom of providing house-made infusions of herbs and spices for flavoring the firewater and washing down the tasty pickled and smoked morsels.
You can spend whole days in a joint like this, and one time in 1989, I did just that, starting a tab at Faergekro for lunch, and finally arriving back at my temporary Danish doorstep in a taxi, pea soup fog choking the street as well as the inner recesses of my cranium, fully tempted to join WC Fields in asking: “Was I here last night, and did I spend $300?”
(Whatever the words for “yes you did” are in Denmark)
That’s good. I thought I lost it!
A weekly web column by Roger A. Baylor.
Scoff if you wish, but I like to eat fish for breakfast.
Among the rotating selections from the cupboard at dawn’s early light are pungent smoked kippers and crackers; piquant pickled herring on buttered rye bread; and on special occasions, lox with the requisite bagel, cream cheese and just a light sprinkling of capers. On special occasions, just for garnish, there’ll be a garlic-stuffed olive.
Yes, there are repercussions to such preferences. From nowhere, impatient cats find me as I’m walking down alleyways, and they make an eager, impromptu parade. Some mornings I get in a hurry, forget to brush my teeth, and inadvertently breathe on a prim, proper, crisply suited banker – and he wilts, as though beaned on the noggin by a stray aesthetic revelation.
If it doesn’t render the banker entirely unconscious, I’ll breathe on him a second time. That usually does it.
It’s clear: I like deceased marine life in the morning. Captain Crunch isn’t even close. Pop Tarts need not apply. Eggs will do, when pickled. Breakfast fish is real food for real people.
Obviously, these dining strategies are best complemented by stiff, aromatic black coffee, such as that produced through the saving grace of our home Saeco espresso maker. As side orders, just for balance amid the oil, vinegar and brine, properly bitter orange marmalade on toast and the occasional serving of Greek-style yogurt with fruit work quite well. Indeed, pungency settles the humors.
Until the pallid likes of Bob Evans and Cracker Barrel grasp the eternal wisdom of gustatory treats like these, it’s hard for me to take them seriously as contenders for my early morning dollars. May these franchised monuments to white bread, Velveeta and decaf never, ever besmirch the shining shores of Scandinavia, where so many years ago I learned to eat breakfast right.
---
It was in Oslo, Norway, that I experienced pickled herring for the very first time, almost 30 years ago. Thanks to a tremendous, short-lived exchange rate in 1985, Scandinavia briefly became almost affordable, and when I stepped off the overnight train from Copenhagen to explore Oslo’s main station in search of a bite to eat, a handy restaurant with an all-you-can-eat buffet actually was reasonably priced.
For the budget traveler, buffets meant two or maybe even three meals, not just one. A clean freezer bag could be stuffed full of meat and cheese when no one was looking. I went for it, and during the course of gorging on the goodies, noticed three ceramic pots positioned behind the rest of the food.
My guess was jam, and with curiosity aroused, I removed the lid and reached for the spoon … which was a fork. It didn’t smell anything like fruit, and the funky aroma tickled my proboscis. I hadn’t ever eaten pickled herring, not once, but I knew what it was when the filet was impaled on the fork. It was love at first chew.
Later that week in Bergen, Norway, I treated myself to a culinary splurge. For three hours at lunchtime, a renowned local eatery ran an all-you-can eat seafood buffet for the equivalent of $15. Bearing in mind that my daily budget for lodging, meals and alcohol was $25, this was a budget-buster, but the fact that it has lingered in my memory three decades later attests to the correctness of the decision to abandon fiscal rectitude.
The buffet served as a rube’s introduction to smoked salmon, something quite rare in the rural, corn-fed Indiana of my youth. In 1985, I had no way of knowing the same-but-different confluences between Norwegian smoked salmon and Jewish lox (the latter cultural norms just as uncommon as Vikings in Baptist-laced Hoosierland), or the meticulous strategies for preparing such treats, which are every bit as traditional, proud and locally varied as American barbecue methodology.
I just liked it. A lot.
The summer of 1985 was a veritable appetizer, and an introduction to all things European. I was enamored of the continent, and have remained so these many years hence. Specifically, engaging in strange, subversive encounters with un-American methods of consuming fish became a thread running through subsequent journeys, from pie, mash eel and liquor (gravy) in London just last summer, ranging back to the snack tray at Suzanne’s wedding on the Baltic in 1996, which included a different species of eel, this time smoked.
But my single proudest moment came when I enjoyed the distinction of being the oddball foreigner who introduced my pals, the Copenhagen residents, to the grandeur of the Faergekro restaurant at Nyhavn (“new” harbor) in their own city.
The daily herring buffet is a highlight of western civilization. At least ten varieties of pickled herring (with sour cream, curry and Madeira sauce, among others) are offered, along with dense dark bread, butter, and garnishes like raw egg, onion and caper berry. Whole smoked herrings are carved from the bone and replenished.
Beer is available, as well as Akvavit (Scandinavian schnapps), with the wonderful northern custom of providing house-made infusions of herbs and spices for flavoring the firewater and washing down the tasty pickled and smoked morsels.
You can spend whole days in a joint like this, and one time in 1989, I did just that, starting a tab at Faergekro for lunch, and finally arriving back at my temporary Danish doorstep in a taxi, pea soup fog choking the street as well as the inner recesses of my cranium, fully tempted to join WC Fields in asking: “Was I here last night, and did I spend $300?”
(Whatever the words for “yes you did” are in Denmark)
That’s good. I thought I lost it!
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