Dudley Manlove and Brad Pitt's washboard abs

Friday night was to be a highly anticipated adventure - a Boxing Day celebration at The Tractor Tavern, hosted by The Dudley Manlove Quartet. I had the pleasure of catching DMQ a year ago as part of "Night of 1,000 Benatars", when they one-upped the divine Miss B's own rendition of "Love Is A Battlefield". I've been itching to catch their astro-lounge 80s coverband act since, but cruel fate postponed our reunion until now. I was to be disappointed.

Despite all the makings for a great show - A decent warmup set by instrumental surf-rock/game-show-theme-loving band, Johnny Astro, a crowd buzzed on Kokanee beer and a DMQ set that ranged from Loverboy to Gordon Lightfoot's "If You Could Read My Mind", one critical and unexpected piece was missing: unbeknownst to me, DMQ parted ways with their founder and lead singer, Paul Jensen. The new singer completely lacked Jensen's oily charm and snappy lounge act vibe, reducing DMQ to a karaoke-level status act. Pity. I overheard someone in the crowd say Jensen was with a new band, so I'll have to seek that out and hope for better.

The weekend ended with a showing of "The Curious Case of Benjamin Buttons" - a movie I scoffed at when I originally saw the trailer months ago, but warmed up to when I learned the inconsistent-but-rarely-boring David Fincher directed. I wanted to see Danny Boyle's "Slumdog Millionaire", but that would have required spending 2 hours killing time at Alderwood Mall - something I wasn't keen on doing after a month of excruciating Christmas shopping. My second choice would have been "Valkyrie", but Adrienne said "If I have to choose between Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt, I'm going with Brad Pitt".

It's a somewhat saccharine and predictable story that borrows too much from the structure of "Forrest Gump" (no surprise, since it's written by the same screenwriter), but it has great signature Fincher boilerplate-and-sepia cinematography and setpieces. Not having seen any additional spoiler-laden trailers helped keep the story fresh, especially the short but impressive WWII sequence. The creepy, shrunken, geriatic Brad Pitt was better than I expected. They also impressively reverse-aged Cate Blanchett - making me wish she'd looked so unearthly smooth-featured in her portrayal as the elven queen Galadriel in Jackson's Lord of the Rings.

"..To know what grownups do behind locked doors when children are asleep."

Seattle has been graced with an unusually spectacular fall this year, with sunny, crisp weather and phenomenal autumn colors. We celebrated the season this weekend with pumpkin carving (via store-bought templates, natch. Though it's deceptively more work than you might think. I applauded Adrienne's exquisite carving skills in executing her pumpkin that sweetly portrays my housemates, Tiny Elvis the tarantula and the cats) and roasting delicious pumpkin seeds, with my perennial Autumn favorite movie Ray Bradbury's "Something Wicked This Way Comes" playing in the background.

The Seattle Arboretum was fantastic to visit on Saturday, and I finally scratched off Kingfish Cafe on my "must do" list of local restaurants. Their buttermilk fried chicken, mashed taters and collard greens, with a dessert of coffee and double-chocolate cake with scooped real whipped cream and a hint of butterscotch was a meal to die for. I hope to visit again soon to try either the pork chops or catfish.

Bumbershoot '08

The weather cooperated and spared us a drenching Saturday, so we enjoyed a belated summer day at Bumbershoot. Food on a stick, mimes on stilts, skateboarders in the halfpipe, and more great music than could be properly covered in an afternoon.

Neko Case delivered the goods, including some great covers and much-anticipated songs off her new album due out next year. We also caught fantastic performances by The Asylum Street Spankers, Nick Vigarino, and Joe Bonamassa - whom I'd never heard of but who blew me away with his Stevie Ray Vaughn-meets-Robin Trower sonic wall of blues guitar.

Summertime, summertime

Last weekend was a hootenanny, what with an epic show at the Gorge with Steve Winwood and Tom Petty, and long-overdue summer weather. It was a blistering 102 at the Gorge, which for Seattlites felt a bit like being a strip of bacon on the grill, but it was a welcome sizzle. I was in a constant loop to the over-priced snack bar for frozen treats and cold drinks (not much rivals an slushie for cold snacks in scorching weather), and thankfully the sunscreen held out, keeping my vampiric complexion from harm.

Steve Winwood was amazing, so much that he upstaged Petty and the Heartbreakers a bit, particularly with an epic rendition of "Mr. Fantasy". At the close of his set, I lamented that he hadn't done "Gimme Some Lovin", but I'd get my wish when he joined the Heartbreakers and played both that and Blind Faith's "Can't Find My Way Home". My ears were so overjoyed I was wishing he'd play the entire rest of the set with Petty and Co.

An equally gorgeous Sunday found us at Woodland Park Zoo, where, despite the absence of Ad's favorite penguins (getting a new habitat, to open next year), we enjoyed sharing the sun with furry and feathered pals.

Tale of Two Cities' Art Festivals

We ventured first to Bellevue's Festival of the Arts this weekend (I prefer the festival's original title, "Arts and Crafts Fair", but Bellevue probably decided it was too much a throwback to the hippie 70s and might encourage an infestation of macramé and tie-dye exhibitors). I'd only reintroduced myself to the fair 3 years ago after a 20+ year hiatus, and I was blown away by some of the artists' work.

My former college professor and mentor, Arunas Ošlapas, showed incredible new concepts in his "remade": fully recycled artwork. In addition to his amazing scrap-metal sculpture, he has introduced "quilts" - metal-and-scavenged-object framed artwork that I found so compelling that I just had to take a piece home with me.

There were many other pieces that affected me which I might have to revisit at a later date, among them the Mercer Mayer-meets-Tim Burton flavored work of Justin Hillgrove http://www.impsandmonsters.com. We also enjoyed the sounds and dancing of the above barefoot violinist and the timeless, never-disappointing indulgence of Fisher Fair Scones.

The following day we visited Renton's "River Days", of which the less said the better. Despite my growing affection for Renton, their so-called arts festival was akin to being the retarded cousin of the Bellevue show.

The After Hours

Going to see "Dark Knight" at Southcenter's swanky new movie theater Saturday, we passed by this Lucky Jeans storefront and I couldn't resist snapping a picture of the gang of nekkid mannequins. It conjured up childhood memories of that creepy "Twilight Zone" episode "The After Hours", with Anne Francis' mannequin identity crisis freaking my 10-year old mind out but good. The window scene also had a Ridleyesque Bladerunner quality to it, as if Deckard would come running by, chasing poor, doomed Zhora.

Speaking of bladerunner chases, we had a surreal moment in Ballard yesterday, when we bore witness to a cop chasing a suspect of some sort near the Safeway at Market and 15th. Heavy afternoon traffic was slowly creeping along, when suddenly we see a cop car driving on the sidewalk next to the Safeway, chasing a disheveled-looking man, frantically looking for an escape route. The guy gave a panicked look across the street, as if salvation lay on the other side, and ran right out in front of my truck and the rest of traffic (which had by this time stopped to watch the bizarre scene unfold), followed by the cop car, lights blazing in hot pursuit. Adrienne and I looked at each other and shrugged. "I hate tourist season", she dryly quipped.

Que cinematic goosebumps

Regrettably, my willpower was weak, and I peeked at the "Watchmen" trailer online yesterday (many, many times), vs. waiting to see it as it should properly be seen: in the theater before "The Dark Knight" this weekend. However, that won't spoil the icing in my Batman cake - catching Christopher Nolan's opus at the new shrine-to-cinemagoing that opens in my 'hood today: The new AMC all-digital cinemaplex in Southcenter. Putting aside the irony of such a lavish movie cathedral being built in the heart of such a classless and even dangerous shopping mall (at least 2 shootings have occured in Southcenter's parking lot in the past year), I can't wait. If both the movie and the new theater are half as good as I've heard, I'll feel even better about refinancing my home 2 days ago and committing to sticking around this neck of the woods.

So this is 40

Ad and I shared back-to-back 40th birthdays this past month. Dad told me I could expect to lose my hyperdrive metabolism that allows me to snarf Top Pot donuts and snack on Kraft Mac & Cheese just before bedtime. We'll see about that - but I'm not giving up video games and superhero movies just yet. I don't yet feel that old.

Also not lost to old age (or is it, the new age?) is a taste for cocktails, live music, and an otherwise raucous good time. We caught The Red Elvises at Ballard's Tractor tavern Saturday, which was as good a commemmoration of turning the page on our 30s as I could think of. Sadly, I forgot the camera to capture the ex-Soviet surf rockers leading the Yankee capitalist dogs in song and dance.

Jack Tripper to the rescue!

I joined Adrienne and her siblings in treating their father to a 70th birthday/father's day celebratory weekend at the Quinault Casino/Resort at Ocean Shores. Beachcombing and sunsets were the highlights, as one might expect. Drinking and gambling, on the other hand, proved to be a predictable debacle, albeit with comical highlights.

Saturday evening, a scrumptious-but-heavy seafood dinner at Alec's By The Sea was followed by watching the sunset with Ad and cocktails in our room. I drank much more than usual, since the food baby in my belly acted as a firewall to the alcohol - at least in the short term. By the time we adjorned to the casino floor for some late night gaming, the booze hit me like a collapsing ice shelf. One of my only recollections was throwing the dice off the craps table not once, but twice, I think. Surprisingly, I wasn't tossed from the casino, but not so surprisingly, I got murdered at the table games and slots. To my amazement, upon opening my wallet the next morning and expecting moths to fly out, I would find several dead presidents staring back at me.

The rest of the evening would be detailed to me by Ad and her sister Wendy the next morning, since I have no memory of it: After stumbling back to our room around midnight, I was so hammered that after sloppily brushing my teeth on autopilot, I returned to the sleeping quarters (now pitch dark). Ad and I were sharing a room with 2 beds with her sister, with a door to the adjoining suite where her parents stayed. Apparently, I proceeded to climb into bed with Wendy, until she barked "Wrong Bed!", startling a blind, disoriented, drunken Dane, who then scampered over to the correct bed, whereupon instead of walking around to my side, I crawled right over the top of Adrienne. A few hours later, I would rise, somnambulist-like, and crash about, unconsciously searching for asprin and the bathroom. After entering the closet and rattling the door to Ad's parent's room (thankfully locked), I achieved some measure of success and returned to bed til dawn.

Kids In The Hall and Fun with Crackheads!

We saw Kids in the Hall last night, which was funny and all that (though I felt a little jipped that they used some video bits in concert that are available on YouTube - lazy fuckers). I had parked in Chinatown, and heading back to the car afterwards, I make the ill-advised decision to detour and use one of Seattle's notorious public self-cleaning toilets in Hing Hay Park. As we reach the park, we walk right past a crowd of druggies huddling around a crack pipe, right out in the open. Just ahead is the toilet, but I can see there is a red light on the toilet's door, meaning it's occupied. A scraggly woman is walking circles around the toilet, casting the stinkeye our way as we wait.

Suddenly, a fracas erupts amongst the druggies. "Hey man, that shit wasn't real!" "Oh yeah? You want some of this? C'mon muthafucka!" Three of them are circling around the other, fists raised in the "put up your dukes/kung fu fighting" pose, throwing wild punches and yelling. Morbidly fascinated, I watch as it spills into the street. I say to Ad, "Hrm, maybe I can just hold it til we get home. We should probably get out of here" Ad: "Can we... Please!?"

Dessert Daddy

Thanks to some lucky traffic-dodging and killer robot speedwalking, Ad and I crammed more into a Friday date night in Seattle's arts district than one would have thought possible. For starters, we pondered our place in world history, gazing at time-ravaged marble genetalia at SAM's roman art exhibit. Food-gasming at Troiani followed soon after - I caved in to my carb-craving id and ordered Lobstah Mac & Cheese, determined to will myself into beating the inevitable food coma that would follow.

Chocolate dessert and a double-shot latte at the Triple Door staved off said coma and provided rocket fuel for the Cherry Poppin Daddies show. The Eugene swingers haven't missed a step, and it was nice to see them strut and toot in a swanky venue befitting their talent and style. I hadn't seen them in over 10 years, though I don't think they'll ever top a show at the now-gone OK Hotel, circa 1993 (maybe) from which I snatched a set-list written on the back of a classic Daddies showbill with Evil Clown illustrations.

I captured a great video of their encore rendition of "Cherry Poppin Daddies Strut", though my retarded video skilz haven't figured out how to compress it to an acceptable YouTube bite-size just yet. Stay tuned!

Teppanyaki A Go Go

April was a brutally stressful month for this traveller. May is shaping up much better, thank Zod. In the midst of much fretting and teeth-grinding, last week I got to enjoy a relaxing night of good food and even better company at Seattle's Mikado restaurant. We did the teppanyaki grill dinner-show thang, but the Mikado also has those cool, intimate tatami style rooms, where you take off your shoes and they cook for you at your table. Some 30-odd years ago, I went with the family to Bush Gardens for that dinner treatment, and it was an experience I never forgot.

Tomorrow is hot date night, with dinner at Troiani, followed by The Cherry Poppin' Daddies at the Triple Door. When I first set foot in the Triple Door last December, I told Ad that it was the perfect venue for a Daddies show. Their ears must have been burning from their Seattle fans' collective yearning, cause they booked a gig only a few months later. I'm looking forward to snapping some choice pictures and getting my swing on!

Tulips + Shriners = End of Days (not really)

Being as the weatherman predicted a Seattle April heat wave of 80 degrees on Saturday, we decided to be "outsidesy" and head out to LaConner to take in the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival. I'd seen postcard pictures of the tulip fields for years, and as a native Washingtonian it one of those nagging items on my "bucket list" to check off.

We spent the morning literally tiptoeing through the tulips, as well as the mud - Tiny Tim left that part out of the song. I was a little underwhelmed - I'd expected seas of tulips as far as the eye could see, but it was more like the occasional big field and a lot of smaller, but very gorgeous patches.

We stopped in downtown LaConner for an afternoon of antiquing, art-walking, and gnoshing. My heart lept when we saw a food vendor selling my latest food addiction, indian flatbread. Their flatbread tacos, stuffed with salmon (Adrienne had beef), cream cheese, and salsa was right in my junkfood palate's wheelhouse!

As we were readying to leave, our exit was postponed by a town parade - though we couldn't have refused the chance to see Shriners driving those tiny cars anyways. When we got home, Adrienne gasped at the supernova sunburn on my pasty-white neck. Thankfully, I'd been wearing a baseball hat to protect my delicate noggin.

"See Washington's Tulip Fields" - check

2008: What a year for men in tights

As a perpetual juvenielle and fan of costumed perverts, er, crimefighters, 2008 just might overload my cinema-libido with it's super-lineup. It's a veritable festival with more chicks and guys in tights, monsters, and cliffhangers than you can shake a stick at!



I kicked the Year of Heroes off Saturday with "Doomsday" - Neil Marshall's "homage" to Escape from NY and Mad Max. I gave Adrienne a get-out-of-jail card by offering up the chance to see "Horton Hears a Who", which was playing at the same theaters, but the screaming throngs of children (it was 3pm) nudged her to pick Doomsday. It was about what I expected - incredibly dumb, but pretty fun. The first 3/4 of the movie was nearly a great Snake Plissken adventure - what Escape from LA should have been. Director Neil Marshall made no bones about modeling his heroine Eden Sinclair after Plissken - right down to similar attire and an eyepatch that she occasionally uncovered to reveal a cyber-eyeball cam. (Which sounds insanely dumb, but it suited the grindhouse vibe). The production quality and polish were much better than I expected - the post-apocalyptic Scotland was executed really well for the most part. But Marshall's spastic, rapid-fire editing gave me a headache during many of the action scenes, and the movie's finale landed with a thud - It was a silly Mad Max-ripoff road chase that was out of place even for the lowbrow spirit of the movie up to that point. Doomsday was also far and away the most violent movie I've seen. At one point, the post-apolalypic Scottish C.H.U.D.S barbeque a live captured soldier - in full frame from roasting to tearing him apart and eating, which was a bit much for my tastes (pun intended). Contrary to many of my peers' opinion, I actually avoid gory movies for the most part. Though I do love cheesy-gory movies like Evil Dead and Reanimator, I avoid torture-porn stuff like Saw or Hostel.

The trailer for the new Hulk movie ran before Doomsday, which looked marginally better than Ang Lee's awful attempt. I have high hopes for Iron Man, Hellboy 2, and Batman. And the pics for Zack Snyder's take on Watchmen have me giddy!

Feliz Navidad y Feliz Año Nuevo

After a nice winter break, it's back to the Microsoft mothership come Monday. Today, the tree and decorations are getting packed up and crammed into storage, the Xmas candy is in the pantry, and gifts are being sorted and put away. The marathon of Christmas craft shows, light displays, freak Seattle snowstorms, endless gorging on decadent food, and reuniting with friends and family seen too infrequently has come to a finish.

One of the more surreal moments of the Christmas season was getting lost in Bellevue's tighty-whitey community of Medina on a dark and rainy night, en route to my grandmother's dinner at the stuffy Overlake Golf & Country Club (I kept an eye out for Judge Smails). I asked a lone, rainslicker-garbed fellow walking his dogs for directions, and was surprised to recognize former Washington Senator Slade "Skeletor" Gorton. He was kind enough to give directions, though my juveneille brain was scrambling for some kind of witty crack the whole time, so I didn't hear a helpful word he said.