I just finished reading Frank Rich's review of Michael Moore's new film Fahrenheit 9/11. (Thank you Disney. Your attempted censorship of a film that just won the top prize at Cannes probably guarantees its success). It's a "must read" and aside from a few asinine assessments by Mr. Rich of Mr. Moore -- e.g. he calls Moore's denunciation of Bush at the Oscar ceremonies last year "boorish." To which I ask Mr. Rich "What! We should be gentlemen and gentlewomen in denouncing the boorish Bush men's oil war? Bravo, Michael Moore ... it was a breath of fresh air that blew in that night and, for a moment or so, disrupted the pretense of the emperor's-new-clothesism that pervades our networks, the media, Hollywood, Washington, etc.
You can read the Frank Rich review too, right here.
So, where was I? Oh yah! We went out Friday night with Stacey's cousin, Stephanie and her husband, Al -- our good friends. Out for "country dining" at a restaurant (Marcello's & Dino's Roman Cafe in Harrington Park, NJ.) Don't ask me where that is -- I have no idea. Al drove for what seemed a very long time on twisty roads and then we were there. Nice Italian food; Marcello is a long-time acquaitance of Al's and he greeted us effusively.
Steffi, Al and Stacey at the Roman Cafe in New Jersey.
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Stacey and I futzed around the next day (Saturday) and then we met Peter and Lori at a new club: Satalla -- "The Temple Of World Music." Satalla means "high on life." I found that little tidbit online when the owner, Michael Yaacobi, (who I called enroute to Florida when I saw that Maura O'Connell would be appearing at his club) challenged me: "If you can find out what Satalla means, then I will give you a free drink when you come to listen to Maura." I called him back with the answer gleaned from the Internet on my handheld Treo 600 phone while passing through South Carolina. That was in April. When we showed up last night, he remembered his offer but gave us two free drinks! A gentleman.
We were celebrating Lori's birthday and Maura O'Connell is one of our favorite Irish female pop singers. She doesn't write music -- only sings it with a beautiful, clear and strong voice. But not last night. She said that NYC pollen had gotten to her and she was very hoarse. A shame. And we felt bad for her, straining for the lows and the highs.
But the music was beautiful anyway; her backup band was great and the place (37 West 26th Street between Broadway and Sixth Avenue) very cool: a real throwback to earlier times: all blacklights and fluroescent decorations on the wall. A guy sat down in front of us his white oxford shirt glowing brilliantly. Peter wanted him to put on a jacket to block out the light emanating from his shirt. To listen to Maura sing a beautiful rendition of Ireland, just click here.
Afterwards, we walked over to our reservation at East Of Eighth, a restaurant we've been to several times and have always enjoyed. Oddly enough, it's on West 23rd Street, just east of Eighth Avenue.
Maura O'Connell at Satalla.
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Today, Sunday, Stacey went to a baby shower. Our friends, Doreen and Stu's daughter-in-law, Jenna, is having a baby in July. So Stacey headed out for Merrick (the thought of getting on the Belt Parkway, headed for Long Island on a gorgeous Sunday appeals to me about as much as a visit to the dentist). Her gift was a stunning quilt made by none-other than our daughter, Danielle who has turned to quiltmaking lately and has become quite good at it. Stacey says Jenna loved it.
This is the beautiful quilt that Dani made for Stacey to give to Jenna
And I headed, by bike of course, for Prospect Park. I answered the call of my bike group -- Transportation Alternatives. They asked for volunteers to help out the Prospect Park Alliance raise money on its You Gotta Have Park annual fund raising day.
Man, was it hot! I stayed from 10 am to 1 pm and then biked over to Cobble Hill and Cafe Luluc for lunch. Then home: hot and tired. Later.
Raising money for Prospect Park at 9th Street.
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