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Buzz McKinnon is a take-charge kind
of guy
 Let's
see, what was this weekend's most important lesson? Perhaps
it's that when I have a barbecue, I should request that guests
bring only beer and not more food, as we have tons of stuff
left over. Or perhaps I should request that guests bring all
the food and beer, and we just provide the grill and the yard.
I dunno. Actually, the real Lesson of the Weekend is probably
"Don't see Fahrenheit
9/11 on a hangover." I didn't think I even had
a hangover but Buzz and I saw the film on Saturday, and it
left me feeling queasy and helpless for the rest of the day.
Did non-hunogver viewers feel the same way? Still, it's obviously
a landmark film that everyone should see. Certainly its best
aspect is the fact that it is spurring conversations among
pretty much everybody I encounter. We can't have too much
conversation about what's been happening here (and there)
for the past few years. Also, I haven't seen it yet, but from
Abby's
explanation of it, I think Control
Room sounds like it makes a good companion piece
to Michael Moore's movie.
 Anyway,
enough politics. this weekend was a never ending parade of
liquor and slightly charred food. Maybe I should make a documentary
à la Supersize Me in which I eat only burned
food and drink Heineken in those 'keg cans.' I certainly practiced
enough for the role this weekend. The party on Friday was
much fun, titlehough I was on grill duty for much of it so I
couldn't mingle so much. Which is probably just as well. Having
to constantly tend to the food means never having to have
a second anecdote ("... Oops! Gotta flip the dogs!").
Abby brought the Mojito Machine, setting up a sweat shop in
the kitchen for her minions to crush ice and juice limes.
I had barbecued ribs earlier in the day, which I think came
out well, though I didn't actually get any of them. Speaking
of which, I'm getting kind of tired of meat. There has been
so much of it over the past few days, I gotta take a break.
I prepared a lot of corn and marinated zucchini, but little
of this vegetable matter made it onto the grill. Lucky for
me, I had another barbecue to take it.
 But
first I should mention my Saturday: after Al Duvall's lovely
set at Freddy's, we went to O'Connors
in my old neighborhood. I hadn't been there for a long time,
but I had no idea that Powers on the rocks is a mere $3 a
glass. I might as well have handcuffed myself to the bar.
I enjoy these holiday weekends, as bars like O'Connors, which
would normally be packed on a Saturday night, remain relatively
roomy. This is not to say there weren't some knuckleheads
there, but for $3, it's worth defending your turf.
 Sunday
my friends had their annual Fourth of July picnic in Prospect
Park. We were moving a bit slowly, so we didn't leave until
2:30 for the park. In a slight oversight, we made the mistake
of convening with Heather
"in front of" Soda.
How foolish. On Sundays, all beer at Soda is $3 (three IS
a magic number), so we got some beer and hung out with a stray,
possibly pregnant cat, who fostered in me one of the worst
allergic reactions in recent memory. I didn't even know I
was still allergic to cats. We eventually got to the park
and rapidly tried to grill as much of our leftovers as possible.
In my haste I kind of burned the corn, but it was still edible.
There's something so exhausting about standing around in the
park drinking all afternoon. The picnic only lasted a few
more hours but by the time we left I was super tired. But
this was no time for lethargy, as we had to get up to Lotus
to keep Blake
company.
 After
the bar, we hit Sam's
cart for, yes, more barbecue. This time, however, it was of
the Korean variety, and much appreciated. Some sweaty French
man accosted me and made very sure I knew his feelings about
our President. "Fuck Booosh!" he cried, slapping
his hand on the crook of his elbow. Then he added, "I
know, I am ashamed to be French, but I still hate Bush."
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