cable guy

(an audio blog in three parts)

The cable guy... That's what I was... for team anjou of the dc 48 hr film project. Dashing through Logan Circle, I get at the guts of production. Even as I spoke these words, I somehow understood that I was a gopher: the lowest one on the totem pole for any film production. But it was a job that had to get done, so I did it. At least I wasn't running to get coffee! That would've been too low, even for me.

"This guy is starting to really scare me, now!"

"Gotta 'bring it' for my producer and director...."

Brown sugar, cha-cha, & henry.

Brown Sugar just kept smiling away, just over our heads, at the table at Merkado, the new Asian/Latin fusion place. The biggest treat of the evening: Cha-cha and Henry's wonderful company. Numero 2: the goat cheese chile rhino (rellen~o?) tempura dish. Que rico!

Brett at mackey's pub

Maybe a little drunk...

But that's OK. Brett, Will and I enjoyed a little fun at the Japan-America Society. Sushi and Sapporo on the house -- that's what we had in the luxuriously low-lit basement office space at the party. Everybody was in a good mood, clearly thrilled that the big festival was behind us. And we could rest for another few months.

Nice weather is here.

No longer on the fence about it, either!

I'm just glad that we're out of the "freeze Jeffrey's fingers off" extreme cold thing that's been so popular here lately.

This just in...

Spring!

Finally... after a prolonged winter, we've got blossoms here in DC.

the 'rents

Mom and Dad dropped in for a weekend of cherry blossom cheer. We started out running errands, buying wires from a downtown Radio Shack. They joined me for this little bit of official business. Then, we retired for a drink or three at Mackey's Irish Pub on L Street. The place had recently blown up. Literally.

Former roomie Howie, who schleps drinks around at the pub, said that a big water main burst the other day right in the middle of the lunch rush hour. Folks ended up with extremely watered-down drinks and sopping wet shoes and socks. Luckily, Howie wasn't there, or he might've had a laughing fit.

The 'rents approved of the place, agreeing that it was as Irish as any pub we'd seen in Ireland. I just like the comfy seats and fast service. I'll have to try the fish & chips sometime.

Art at sushi tasting

Tastefully done, this gi-ganto calligraphy adorned the front of the conference room. It's Japanese for "Sushi."

I was shocked at how poorly the calligrapher sang. She warbled like a rusty saw and seemed to beat her chest, a la Whitney Houston. This is, needless to say, very unJapaneselike behavior. And the demonstration of her calligraphy was the moment when I actually realized that she was Japanese. I wonder if the American Idol TV show bug had caught her? Maybe she just wanted to put the "scare" into scary-oke. She certainly did!

Later on while she walked around the room, I noticed that she had battery powered jewelry. I immediately grew to like her, since I'm considering purchasing some electronic accessories, myself. Now that is some Bling Bling, indeed!

Sushi threesome

These cheerful sushi chefs kept the place lively, yelling out traditional sushi chef chants and toasting us with loud "Kampais." They were the hit of the tasting. Along with the plum wine and dry sake.

The company was good. Henry and I met folks from all around. They were a handful of people of the millions who'd come in to see the blossoms this year. The twenty-seven thimble-fulls of sake managed to make me just the slightest bit relaxed and mellow. But who knows -- that might have simply been the allergy medicine?

A freakishly straight-faced guy ambled about, tugging a sound system behind him. The speaker blared old country music Enka, it's called. He created curious little wax sculptures for the crowd. A blowfish here, a sand dollar there... Stranger still was his quirky sense of humor when he donned a colorful dragon mask and proceeded to "bite" at people's hands and chopsticks. People laughed and joked at his antics, while he remained aloof. Despite the giggles from kids and adults around him, he was stone-faced. How oddly impassive he was! It reminded me of the tendency for Japanese folks to not show their emotions that much.

I suppose that if I'd seen him at a festival in Japan just a few years ago, it wouldn't have made much of an impression. But among so many americanized Japanese, his impassivity stood out.

The sushi chefs above obviously have a great sense of fun about them. They made the evening a really fun affair. "Uh-oh, do you like taco?" They asked me, in English. (Taco is Japanese for octopus.) They obviously didn't expect me to like our eight-legged sea pals that much! But the octopus was fresh and tasty -- wonderfully chewy. It hit the spot.