August 18th, 2009

Seven Trivial Tidbits

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I  received some nice blog lovin’ from Svasti over at Svasti: A Journey From Assault To Wholeness as she passed on to me this Meme Blog Award. Please pay her a visit if you haven’t already done so—you’ll love her. From childhood reminisces to yoga studies to her ongoing recovery from a horrendous assault, Svasti presses on, and she’s a real inspiration.

So, she has tagged me to list seven tidbits about myself. Hmmm, seven tidbits…seven tidbits…okay, I’m not terribly interesting, Svasti, but here ‘ya go…

1. I avoid team sports. That’s why I like cycling—I have only myself to answer to. When I was a kid I must’ve been yelled at during a softball game for making a boo-boo, and I didn’t like the way that felt—the yelling or the boo-boo. This probably fed the awful people-pleasing personality that I now own. Any psychologists out there are welcome to jump in here…

2. I’m afraid to fly and haven’t been in a plane since the 80′s. I used to fly into an airport in the Appalachias, and you’d think I would’ve quit then as I looked out the window and saw the wing flapping up and down off the edge of the mountain as we taxied. No, I was a brave soul (as we passengers are called and why is that?) and continued flying, drinking as many of those little bottles as I could. Not many flights later, I did a self-imposed grounding. Psychologists welcome here, too…

3. Almost cut my hair… A great song, and yes, I cut my own hair. I used to go to The Maestro in one of those froufrou salons where I was totally out of place, but didn’t care because he was that good. After the cut, he would insist on poufing and spraying and doing all sorts of awful stuff to my head. “You know, don’t you, that when I get home I wash all this crap out?” I’d ask him. “Humor me.” he’d say. So I did. I let him have his way with my locks. Then one day he just disappeared—no forwarding address, nothing. Since then I’ve cut my own hair and live by the mantra, “It’ll grow back.”

4. I’m a college dropout, I’m ashamed to say. Having obviously not enrolled in that southwestern Virginia school with higher education in mind, I did learn a few things, although useless and too late…things like grain alcohol does a job on a linoleum floor, and if you think the band’s lead singer at that party looks like Eric Clapton, then it’s time to hop into that van with the other 10 frat brats you came with and git awn back ta yer own skool. Under no circumstances should you go on the road… This probably deserves some explanation…at another time.

5. I used to be a pastry chef. Yes, I went through cooking school and for a few years worked as a pastry chef at a D.C., caterer, gourmet deli and finally, hotel. Although I loved playing in sugar, butter and chocolate 12-14 hours a day, I quickly grew tired of plating up hundreds of half-melted sorbets into the wee hours and walking on eggshells around the head chef, aka, ticking time bomb. Did I mention insolent customers? A commercial kitchen is no place for the weak, or in my case, the intolerant.

6. I’m a cousin of George Washington. Yeah, that George Washington, Father of Our Country and first President of these here United States. Related by way of my maternal grandfather who was a descendant of George’s mother, Mary, I’m a fifth cousin, four times removed—or is it the other way around?—I always get that mixed up. Anyway, a family member did the genealogy research thing and wrote a book on it. And no, I do not look like him, with or without a powdered wig.

7. Lastly, out of 8,142,277 StumbleUpon members, I am the only one who listed Spencer’s Mountain as a favorite movie. How in the hell can that be? Written by Earl Hamner, creator of The Waltons, it is a great movie about an early 60′s Wyoming family and their trials and tribulations while trying to raise tuition money to get the oldest of nine kids into college. I guess I’m the only one who had a crush on Clayboy (James MacArthur, aka, “book ‘em, Danno”) and adored Clay Spencer’s (Henry Fonda) heathen ways. Geesh… Then again, maybe it’s my farm roots.

Thank you, Svasti (I think). I’ll break the rules here and not pass this on, at least not right away. But, soon.

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February 24th, 2009

Fleetwood’s was here

If you visit me often you know that 99.9% of the time I post a photograph. I’m trying to put more time into writing but love photos and feel compelled to take them and post them, good or bad. After pondering whether or not to continue to accompany writings with irrelevant pics and vice versa, I’ve discovered that I prefer to saddle you with both, as I did here. Afterall, some of you may only be interested in reading while others couldn’t care less (or can’t bear the embarrassment for my lack of writing skills) and only hope to have something half interesting to see. That being said, today’s your lucky day (or not), as here I’ve found a bit of relativity…

I took this photo in Old Town Alexandria a few weeks ago—loved the reflection of bare limbs and blue sky in the glass facade. The building is located in Transpotomac Canal Center Plaza in Old Town North and having lived a few blocks away some years back, I remembered that the first floor housed Fleetwood’s Restaurant & Blues Club, owned by Mick Fleetwood of Fleetwood Mac.

Situated on the Potomac waterfront, the club opened in 1994, but closed just a few years later. Apparently, Fleetwood had a penchant for high-risk restaurants and real estate. His first restaurant by the same name had also closed not long after opening in Los Angeles. The Alexandria spot was supposedly popular so I don’t know why it closed, but I wondered if it had anything to do with the old adage, “location, location, location.” I had always wondered why his club took residence in Old Town North, away from all the Old Town “action” less than a mile down the road. At that time, Old Town North was a less-developed area (even more so than today) and consisted mostly of commercial office buildings, high-rise condos and one large hotel. There were some restaurants scattered about, but most were small eateries that catered to the weekday lunch crowds. At night the area was usually dark and deserted with scarce foot traffic. Actually, I remember feeling that it was unsafe to walk there, at night, alone. Possibly even more unsafe at night, alone, with a few drinks in ya. Yikes.

In contrast, just nine blocks south lies the more quaint Old Town that included all of the nightlife as well as shops, restaurants, marinas and historical sights. Especially on weekends, there is no shortage of tourists, diners and party-goers roaming about.

If Mr. Fleetwood were to return for another venture and needs a consult, I might be available…heh ;o)

If you happen to end up in Old Town Alexandria, stop by the Visitors Center at King and Fairfax streets to pick up a map and get information on the walking tour where you’ll hear that in the 80s, Mick lived in Old Town in the same (reconstructed) townhouse in which George Washington lived…yeah, really!

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