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Flaming Lips Alley Cats

Sat, 1 Nov 2008 21:49:46 -0500

While wandering around in Bricktown, the entertainment district of Oklahoma City a few weeks abo, we spotted a little access road lined with dumpsters. It's called Flaming Lips Alley, and it's named for a popular band which calls Oklahoma City its home. Legendary guitarist Charlie Christian has a street named after him in OKC, as does Mickey Mantle, so they're in good company. The Bricktown-adjacent baseball field includes an area containing a statue honoring catcher extraordinaire Johnny Bench, who was born there and grew up nearby.
Of course, OKC has done a lot to honor the memory of native son Will Rogers, including somewhat ominously naming their airport after him. The old joke used to be that "Will Rogers never met a man he didn't like—with the possible exception of Wiley Post." (For the too young: Post was the pilot of Will Rogers' fatal final flight.) But not to worry, in the spirit of letting bygones be bygones, OKC also has an airport and a park named for Wiley Post. But I digress.
The Flaming Lips and Christian streets, along with one inexplicably named for a performer named Vince Gill, were created two years ago by the local planning commission and city council, and a story in the local paper indicated that there was a lot of heated discussion before the motion was carried. Opposition to Flaming Lips Alley was led by the owner of a club called the Biting Sow. "It's a laughable name," she said, and we’re not sure whether she was referring to The Flaming Lips or to the Biting Sow, but she may have been right either way, so what’s the problem?
An aide to the Mayor said The Flaming Lips, Vince Gill and Charlie Christian were chosen because they are from Oklahoma City and are legendary performers with long-lasting careers. "These three are from Oklahoma City," Holt said. "When you look at musicians from Oklahoma City, it's a short list. And this is the cream of the crop."
The PBI begs to diﬀer, pointing out a very large, very loud name that is notably missing from their short list. So let us now begin the countdown to the day when Oklahoma City casts an Aquanet of honor around its notable native son and our own guitar hero—and we don't mean with any measly path or mere cul de sac, either.
We eagerly await the day when we can get behind the wheel of our '69 Mustang and swerve up the onramp onto the… Hadley Hockensmith Highway.

Merry Halloween

Fri, 31 Oct 2008 18:00:44 -0500

Here's wishing you a joyous and happy halloween. May the spirit of the season fill you with terror and dread and may you and all you know and love experience shudders of fear and disgust on this most fetid of all days.

May your holiday celebration be filled with gelatinous and bilious bites of dangerously sweet substances, leaving you dyspeptic and disoriented, cowering and terrified behind your door, praying that the attack of costumed children will cease for another year.

Tampa Nuggets

Fri, 24 Oct 2008 12:08:03 -0500

The word "Tampa" is believed to mean "sticks of fire" in the language of the Calusa, a Native American tribe that once lived south of today’s Tampa Bay. Other historians claim the name means "the place to gather sticks." Since there is a lack of unanimity on the subject, the PBI has instructed Ron and King to be safe by making sure to gather their sticks here and then to burn them, just to be safe.
Touroids like to spend time in the “old town” part of Tampa, called Ybor City. That’s where Vicente Martinez Ybor set up his cigar factory compound in 1885, and they’re still making cigars there today. They also seem to do a great deal of drinking and tattooing in Ybor City, so remember: if you go home to your loved one drunk, stogie-breathed and tattooed, you got some ‘splainin’ to do. According to Maxim, Tampa is rated the 6th city in the nation for its party scene. Despite this, we haven’t been invited to one party while in Tampa, and what’s more nobody in Diamondville ever reads Maxim Magazine—one Touroid admitted having picked up a copy once, but he discarded it as soon as he found out it wasn’t a journal about instant coffee.
Oh wait, there is one party we could have gone to, but we’ll be gone. It’s called Guavaween, and it takes place Saturday in—where else?—Ybor City. It’s said to be pretty strange, but for those who’ve been near Santa Monica Boulevard on Halloween, it won’t be too upsetting.
We will also miss the Gasparilla Pirate Festival in January, a chance to drive your CARRR down to the BARRR and enjoy acting goofy in FLARRida.

There Will Be Cheese Steaks

Sat, 9 Aug 2008 22:15:07 -0500

And there were, but only from Geno’s, the winner of our 2005 competition, and thus considered the official purveyor of cheese steaks to Hosty until we change our minds.
There wasn’t strong sentiment for a rematch this time, so we went about our business, perhaps resting up our culinary chops for our next stop. Which is not to say that we went hungry.
Fortunately, no one suggested making a run to the South Philadelphia Tap Room, since lion is no longer being served there.
The SPTR, as it was initially called, is run by a vegetarian, yet it has a menu featuring tasty treats such as ostrich, boar and bear, bison balls and seitan sloppy joe. This summer, lion was added to the menu, ground and spiced and served in a pastry shell. But a lot of people complained for a variety of reasons, so it was discontinued from the menu.
As we said, in Hosty it was cheese steaks all around—and I ain’t lion.

No Grinder for YOU, Mr. Gourmet!

Thu, 7 Aug 2008 21:53:43 -0500

The Eatie Gourmet pulled out his Hartford Dossier and studied it carefully. He noted that on previous visits to this town he had given good marks to a couple of establishments on Franklin Avenue, The Corner Grinder and the Franklin Giant Grinder.
He noted that each had its adherents, and since competing local eateries draw him to them like a fly heading for a pie, he read a few messages praising each of the shops but found little to choose between them.
And so few minutes later he headed up Franklin Avenue in a company van. The Corner Grinder is in the 200 block, so he checked it out first. There was a hand-lettered “closed” sign in the window.
He was disappointed, but since it made his decision-making process easy, he cheerfully rode up four more blocks to the Franklin Giant Grinder. On the way, he noticed an influx of ethnic foods from many eths springing up along the thoroughfare, Columbian, Eastern European, Russian. He remembered reading about the Polish National Home in downtown Hartford, known for its pierogis and sausage. On Sundays, they feature a polka brunch with a local station broadcasting live, but Sunday is another day and another town.
The van pulled up to the Frankin Giant Grinder. In the window was a hand-lettered sign reading “closed.” What the hell was going on? Is this some kind of conspiracy where they all close up at the same time? Closer inspection revealed that the Giant was closed for a week of vacation, and the Corner Grinder apparently did the gentlemanly thing, not trying to usurp the Giant clientele, and simply closing too. Perhaps they were all sunning themselves on the Isle of Capri together.
The Eatie Gourmet consoled himself with contemplation of his next stop, and reached for his lavishly-nnotated cheese steak dossier from Philadelphia.