I went out to dinner with our pinot loving friends last night and their pal, Dave. A few more friends showed up at Peking Wok and we were all getting pretty happy.
The meal and the company was great (I highly recommend the lettuce cups) and we capped it off with the special Saki rice that is not on the menu and that the owner will only prepare if she is in the mood and maybe likes you. To tell you the truth, I passed last night because it is a little strong for me and I am starting my zpack and didn't want to mix hard alcohol and antibiotics.
Anyway the conversation swam around to things that we would still like to individually accomplish in our lifetimes. My company was pretty learned, an M.D., Phd., Masters, etc., with me bringing up the rear in terms of scholastic achievement. The individual with the Masters wanted to go back to school and get her doctorate. Also learn how to draw and play guitar. The M.D. just got her Masters in occupational toxicology but still needs to get her thesis published. She would like to go back to school some day. I think I would too. I think the Phd. would like another plane, an item in his arsenal that he jettisoned when he got his boat. We all discussed our personal bucket lists.
I don't have a lot of goals, with the exception of maybe getting my bills paid. But there is one thing I would like to do. I would like to become a better pool player. I would like to take lessons from a pro. I would like to get power on my break, something I was told could never be achieved without sufficient topspin. I would like to have the cueball on a string after every shot. I would like to be able to walk into a pool hall with a rough assurance, screw my custom pool stick together, and have all the muggles cowering in fear at my badass game. Or at least not suck so bad.
I bought a nice Viking cue stick at an estate sale a few weeks ago but have yet to test drive it. If you know of a good teacher in the San Diego area, let me know.
6 comments:
Robert
Sunday, just awoke in Bangkok 615am to the sounds of mild wimpering from the Isand princess next to me and the roar of the air conditioner. Weekdays it is the school children singing the morning hymn to their beloved King Bhumibol, who by the way is in failing health, you cannot believe the geniuine love for this guy. I am responding to your request for lessons, I will have my table re-felted and leveled by the next time you are in SF.I will show you how to get that cue ball rushing back. Actual names of pool hustlers from the 60's who played at Cochrans downtown, Mexican Phil, One Eyed Hank, Ears ,Ronnie the Barber, Canadian Dick, Legs...
Daly City Mike
I received these wonderful notes from the front from anonymous. Nothing incriminating so I will print.
If you recall Broadway Danny Rose, it was shot in and around the Carnegie Deli. 850 Seventh Ave is the office building directly next door to the building that the Carnegie Deli is in. I had my first office in 850. Incredible that I didn't kill myself by ordering lunch from downstairs several times a week. What was I thinking?
850 was full of old time writers and agents. There were two men in particular who were not old time writers but were older and wrote and happened to occupy the offices on either side of mine. One was Paddy Cheyefsky and the other, Elia Kazan. I wanted to hang out with Kazan. What to do? He was quiet and polite. How to break the ice? I left an envelope at his door one morning with Janis' new album with a note from me about how I hoped he would like her writing.
A knock on my door a short time later and it is Mr. Kazan who invites me back to his office. On the shelf are dozens of books he has written. I believe he went into a period of writing works of fiction in the late 70's, somewhat autobiographical. Anyway, I leave a few minutes later with an armful of his latest novels stuck under my arm. Some years later, I decided to let ideology get the better of me and tossed said books in the dust bin.
One morning, as I arrived at my office, there were two men at his door, one tall and the other short. It was Kazan and the other, carrying a rough script of Reds, was Warren Beatty. I was not discovered that morning and no close ups were taken nor did Mr. K recall my name when he said good morning. O well, another brush with near celebrity.
Chayefsky died shortly thereafter.
There was a very strange looking man in our building who was a well known character actor. He played a villian in that horrible Sci Fi movie with the giant worms that had Sting in it....name escapes me and want to call it, THE WORMS...he looked like an evil leprechaun. Maybe he was. Don't remember his name either. He died shortly after the making of the horrible film.
Kazan lived around here and married a very beautiful and considerably younger woman and I would see him on the platform at 59th St. His trophy wife doing her best to accommodate the old geezer in his self indulgence of taking the C train home. I saw her some years later, still beautiful and well kept, a widow for some years, the subway grime long gone from her polished nails and manicured open toed sandals. We were at brunch at the home of Arif Mardin in Connecticut. Arif was the house arranger at Atlantic for many years. Great character. Made a drink he called the Mardini....vodka martini, no vermouth, extra olives. Many spoke of it at his memorial service. The Mardini.
Hell of a drink in so far as it being mentioned more than once at his memorial. Says much about the man since it was very cold vodka with some olives. More about the man than the drink.
Well, what in the hell do you know about Jesus?
I don't have to know shit. I was just taking his picture.
Your wants / needs are so modest...!!!!!!
Great story by NY Anonymous... really enjoyed reading it!!
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