tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19249787709024591642024-02-20T17:25:08.415-08:00Tim & Jeremy's Mind on LoupTim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.comBlogger148125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-76480868925905719572015-04-29T11:57:00.000-07:002015-04-29T11:57:07.985-07:00#72 "Gettin' the Band Back Together II" In Color! September 18, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="s1"><u>Wolf Credo</u></span></div>
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Respect the elders</div>
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teach the young</div>
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cooperate with the pack</div>
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Play when you can</div>
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hunt when you must</div>
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rest in between</div>
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</span> Share your affection</div>
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voice your feelings</div>
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leave your mark.</div>
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</span>This has been hanging in the Men's room of the Cafe Loup for as long as I have been working there. It has probably been up there for 20 years. Most people think it is a charming addition to the place, or at least, an amusing thing to read while you pee. Guys like it so much that they sometimes get carried away and steal it. This is unnecessary as we keep copies behind the bar for those same guys who love it so much as to steal it. The saddest time that someone heisted the Wolf Credo was probably about eight years ago. The Loup was being repainted, head to toe, and the guy who was painting was a friend of Lloyd and a fine artist. He, as a gift to Lloyd, made a beautiful hand-made Wolf Credo on a repurposed piece of wood. He hand painted the credo and even hand painted the wolf peeing on the tree. It was all lacquered and sanded down and looked incredible. He probably spent as much time on it as he did painting the place. Well, it was promptly stolen from it's place above the urinal, and so we went back to having the photocopied version in there. One hopes that it has a nice home now, but I fear that whomever stole it, did so in a drunken stupor and once awoken to the hungover light of day, looked at it with mild bemusement and then promptly forgot about it and now it's in some landfill in New Jersey. Truly a shame. And it goes against the teachings in the Wolf Credo itself.</div>
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I never really wondered about where the Wolf Credo had come from until recently. I thought it was some ancient saying, possibly stolen from the Native Americans of the plains or some other such place where wolves are held in high regard. I was wrong. The saying comes from a woman from California named Del Goetz. She wrote a book called "Life in the Pack," all about raising and living with Siberian Huskies. According to her <a href="http://lifeinthepack.com/Huskies_Home.html"><span class="s3">website,</span></a> she has raised over 25 dogs and up to 12 at a time. She says, <span class="s4">“I chose to raise dogs instead of kids because you don’t have to buy them a car or send them through college — and, they don’t do drugs. </span>They show their appreciation when you feed them and show their affection constantly rather than conditionally when they want something.” She seemed like an interesting person so I decided I would find out a little more about her, and see if I could get a connection with her and the Cafe Loup, if there is one. However, she has proven pretty hard to find. Googling her gets you her website and the Amazon link where you can buy her book. The rest of the results are Marin County board meeting minutes praising Del's community service in the Muir Woods Park of California. She seems like she is an outstanding member of the community and I wanted to know more, so I emailed her. She, sadly, has not written back. I figure she's out in the woods raising dogs and helping with the community fire department. If she ever writes back and I can set up some sort of dialogue, I will certainly add that to this post. </div>
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Del certainly did leave her mark. Although she seems to be living the quiet life somewhere outside of San Francisco, at one time she penned a poem that has lived on in the Cafe Loup Men's Room for at least 20 years. It is so popular that we keep copies of it behind the bar for the guys who come out laughing and talking wildly about it. Some guys have even memorized it. It's odd that we don't have one in the Ladies Room, although in the picture, it is obviously a male wolf leaving his mark on a snow topped pine tree. But it seems cruel to leave the ladies of the Loup out of the loop. It's always funny to see a guy come out of the john laughing and talking about the Credo to a woman who has no idea what he's talking about. The guy is usually a little tipsy anyway, and then rambling on about teaching the young and voicing your feelings clearly leaves no mark on his date. She's probably rethinking sharing her affections with this guy, until I come along and say how great the Credo is, and handing him a copy from out from behind the bar, thus saving this guy's night and sharing the Credo with his date as well. </div>
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All in all, the Wolf Credo is pretty solid advice for humans. I hesitate a little with "Leave your Mark," but as a species, that has been done already what with man made substance that may never break down and mutating wildlife. As individuals, everyone does want to leave their mark historically. No one wants to be forgotten, and I think that this little poem may remind people, even very subtly, that they aught to get out and do something with their lives. </div>
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Cafe Loup and the Wolf Credo: Always trying to help out humanity.</div>
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Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-19744169724980023952015-04-15T13:15:00.000-07:002015-04-15T13:15:26.210-07:00#72 "Gettin' the Band Back Together II" September 18, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I probably shouldn't write this post. Not because it's childish, highly unlikely, or even based anywhere in reality, but because I don't want to give away my plans. I don't want someone to read this and steal my idea so that when the day comes, I'm left out in the cold. Yes, I am talking about the Zombie Apocalypse. As a New Yorker, the Zombie Apocalypse is going to be a trying endeavor. There are 20 million people living in the TriState Area, and so when the outbreak comes and most of the population are turned into zombies, New York City is not going to be a great place to be. Unless you find yourself at the Cafe Loup.<br />
A couple years ago, some friends of mine and I found ourselves at the Loup talking about this very scenario. We had all seen countless zombie movies and T.V shows, so we knew the risks of being in a big city. One of the best portrayals of New York during the post-zombie-apocalypse is in the movie "I Am Legend" in which Will Smith ends up being the last man alive on the island of Manhattan that has been overrun with zombies. He fares rather well, and I think anyone who has seen the movie would move to Washington Square North as well. However, before you can become "the last man standing," you need first to survive the initial scourge of zombies. That is where the Loup comes in. Some people are going to think that going out and fighting these undead former finance bros is going to be the way to go. I am here to defend the opposite stand; that of laying low and surviving. Battling zombies on the streets of New York is going to be difficult at best. There are not enough firearms in the city and there are too many variables. Zombies could get at you from literally any angle; from the sewers, dropping down from buildings, jay walking, or from behind the wheel of a large automobile. No, being on the streets after dark during these troubling times would be unwise at best. The better solution is to lay low, wait out the initial push, and then return to the world when the zombies have been starved out of Manhattan and have moved on to the suburbs. Hence, the Cafe Loup.<br />
The defensive capabilities are pretty solid at the restaurant, although there will have to be some preparation, and you are going to want to have a couple people to help. With luck, the Zombie Apocalypse will happen at approximately midnight on a Sunday night. This way, me and a handful of good people will be there and we can keep the riff-raff out, e.g. you, dear readers (as zombies, remember; but you won't care because you will be undead). We have a steel door that will need to be pulled down and locked from the outside. Then, we will need to just go ahead and break one of the front windows. They will be broken soon enough once the zombies start realizing there are people with deliciously edible brains inside, so what's the harm in speeding along the process? Once back inside, the front windows are going to need to be barricaded. We will use as many, if not all, of the tables, chairs, refrigerators, and stoves from the dining room and kitchen as necessary. This barricade will hopefully keep out the undead hordes, but in the unfortunate event that this barricade does not hold, there is still hope! As a couple people are barricading the front of the restaurant, a second team will be taking all of the food, water, and booze downstairs into the basement. This is where everyone will be living for the next 6 months (or as long as it takes for the brain eaters to move out to Long Island). Once the front alcove is sufficiently barricaded, the basement door can be shut and the second defense can be started in the stairwell. Once everyone is downstairs and the two-system barricades are in place, everyone can relax a little bit.<br />
But not for long. That's when siege mentality is going to have to take place. Now, if the Zombie Apocalypse does happen on that fateful Sunday night, we won't be as stocked as possible, but we will be stocked for a good 6 month, subterranean vacation of misery. Yes, we will be alive and that will be exciting, but the 6 months in the dark of the basement might not be what you would call a vacation. However, we will be well stocked with foodstuffs, clean and safe drinking water, and of course a ton of booze. I think on Day 1, you drink the best stuff you've got, as a celebration of surviving the initial outbreak, barricading the place and ending up in a safe spot underground. Then, on Day 2, you start emptying the well liquors and liqueurs, so as to save the good stuff for a couple months from now when the cabin fever and the rank odors of your co-inhabitants is going to be irritating. I think there would be enough food for 6 people to live down there for 6 months. Granted, we wouldn't all be eating "escargot followed by cassoulets and chocolate pudding for dessert" every night, but there is enough dry and canned food that we could all not starve. Yes, we will be losing some weight, a lot of weight, but we will come out on the other side alive and not zombies. And what a glorious day that will be! The day that we finally emerge from the basement into the Post-Apocalyptic Dystopia! We'll remove the refrigerators from the doors, and armed with knives and hammers, we will spill out onto 13th Street and greet the new world with squinty eyes and emaciated faces. But we will be alive!<br />
(Wouldn't that be the worst if that in that 6 month stretch, a cure was found and New York City hadn't actually been overrun by zombies? We finally hack our way out of the basement and find that life had just gone on as normal, and people simply thought the Cafe Loup had closed? But, if New York had been completely consumed by the zombie horde, it'll be nice to know that we can get all the great apartments now.)<br />
In all of New York, I truly believe that the Loup is my first choice of places to be when the Zombie Apocalypse happens. As for all of you, if you would like to be invited into the elite club of zombie survivalists on 13th street, I would recommend coming in every Sunday night, just in case "Patient Zero" tastes the first brain somewhere in lower Manhattan and plunges the world into total and utter chaos. Wouldn't it be nice to spend the next couple of months in a dark basement sipping on the daily ration of Creme de Cacao instead of roaming the streets in search of brains?</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-73408171083304444042015-04-10T10:20:00.001-07:002015-04-10T10:20:08.266-07:00#71 In Color!!! September 10, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"Water World"<br />
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In any good restaurant, there should never be a dull moment. Actually, the only dull moment should be closing up for the evening without a hitch; locking the door, and peacefully walking away, leaving the space to breathe overnight to get ready to do it all again the next day. The rest of the time should be a non-stop hive of activity. Ordering, delivering and preparing the food, cleaning the place, making it look good for the guests, and eventually serving as many meals as humanly possible. All of this usually goes on without incident day in and day out. There are some days, however, that try their hardest to mess up the natural flow of the normal day in the restaurant. One of those days happened just this week, and I was there to witness it.<br />
There have been a handful of times that the restaurant has closed because of natural disasters. The Cafe Loup was open on 9/11, and from I heard, they were packed. The place doesn't have a television set, and my guess is that people needed to get out of their apartments and be with other people on that day, and so they congregated at the bar and in the dining room trying to make sense of the events of the day. I started working there a couple months later and business went on uninterrupted until August 14, 2003. I was taking a shower, getting ready to go to work when the stereo went out. I didn't think much of it until I got outside and saw that the traffic lights were out. It was the Great Blackout of 2003. The entire Northeast was blacked out, the biggest power outage in American history with over 50 million people without power. On that day, though, we all thought the power would be back on in time for service, so I went to the Loup to see what I could do. I found Lloyd there that day sitting outside on the sidewalk with his little battery operated television set that we would watch the World Series on a couple months later. Sure enough, the entire city was without power. I went into the darkened restaurant that was being lit by the emergency floodlights, but the kitchen was pitch black. There would be no service that evening. A couple regulars came in and we gave them some drinks, and drank a couple beers, since they would all be warm in a couple hours and then sat outside on the sidewalk to watch the endless streams of people walking home. That little forced night off wasn't such a big deal, the power returned the next day and the restaurant went on with the usual business that evening.<br />
The next time wasn't so easy. Flash forward nine years to October 2012. A storm people were calling "Frankenstorm" was making it's way up the East Coast. The closeness to Halloween was the reason for the name, but once it hit New York City, the humor of the name was quickly forgotten to the actual name of the storm, Hurricane Sandy. This hurricane, when all was said and done, ended up being the second costliest hurricane in American history, runner-up only to Katrina which essentially leveled New Orleans. To this day, there are still people in New York City living in hand-made shelters that they built after their homes were destroyed, and this is going on 3 years since the storm. I was lucky enough to be out of town when the storm hit, and although the storm water didn't affect the Cafe Loup, the aftermath certainly did. The water flooded the streets on the south and east side of Manhattan, causing one of the power stations to explode and shut off the power to lower Manhattan for a week. Just our luck, the power outage affected everything from 14th street on down to the southern tip of Manhattan. As you know, the restaurant is on 13th Street. Lloyd estimated that he ended up throwing out over $7,000 worth of food that started to go bad a couple days after the power went out. Then he had to buy all that food again and start over. And we were the lucky ones! Minimal to no water damage, and everyone survived. Pretty good for a city where 100,000 homes were damaged or destroyed, and 71 people died.<br />
Finally, and this is why I even thought about this subject in the first place, are the events that took place this past Wednesday evening. The previous two events cost the restaurant a lot of money and stress, and so this little thing that happened on Wednesday is essentially a non-event, but it was pretty eventful anyway, and it made me think about how sometimes it's the unexpected events that make you enjoy the quieter moments. What happened is that at about 7 o'clock on Wednesday night, <a href="http://gothamist.com/2015/04/08/videos_water_main_break_soaks_14th.php">a water main broke</a> on 13th St. and 7th Ave, flooding the subway and draining the neighborhood of its water. Our building still had hot water, but there was no cold water and no water in the toilets. I was working the door, so I would tell people this as they came in, showing them videos from Twitter, and letting them know that the toilets were essentially not working. Not one person was disuaded from coming in and enjoying some drinks and dinner. Every once and a while, Tim and I would go into the bathrooms and manually fill up the tanks, and rinse out the urinal, thus trying to create a sort of normalcy throughout the night. The kitchen guys filled up as many receptacles as they could with the water that was remaining since they knew it would eventually run out as it had in the smaller buildings on the block. For the most part, I was impressed by everyone who helped out to make a possibly disastrous situation completely reasonable and incident free. Some of the guests didn't even know anything was amiss until they were leaving. Writing about this night coupled with the previous stories seems like they aren't related in the slightest, as the other two were disasters on a national level, while this water main break only affected an extremely small amount of people and was essentially a nuisance rather than an all out life altering event. But it was exciting. To be put in a pressure situation and come out on the other end not only successful but also making such a small impact that many people didn't know there was a problem was pretty cool. It certainly makes you appreciate those nights that nothing out of the ordinary happens. Oh, to be boring!</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-82047275132102670442015-04-08T09:30:00.000-07:002015-04-08T09:30:42.815-07:00#71 September 10, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"Garden of Eden"<br />
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As my loyal 8 readers know by now, the text in these blog posts really doesn't have much to do with the picture posted above.When I started writing this blog, it was more based on the pictures, but as the years wore on and I struggled with the meaning of the drawings and the meaning of the project in general, the text of the blog started looking inward at the restaurant that the drawings are made in. The space of the restaurant, and the inner workings became as important to the drawings as the drawings themselves. I mean, one could exist without the other, but without the restaurant, the drawings would never have come into form. In fact, these drawings represent a perfect storm of opportunity. The restaurant has gone through so many changes in name, ownership, and time, that if it hadn't been for the exact time and scenario that we were able to find ourselves at Cafe Loup, this blog would be about something completely different.<br />
Which brings me to an awesome event that happened a week ago. We were having a normal Friday night at the restaurant, when a table of eight men of varying ages sat down at Table 8. They seemed to be just a normal table of eight, until they revealed who they really were. It turns out that one of the guys at the table was getting married, and this was his "bachelor party," even though his 12 year old nephew was in attendance and he was in his 60's. So, ok, they were having a tame bachelor party. Big deal, right? That sort of thing happens all the time at the Loup, so why was this party special? Well, the guy who was about to get married at one point tells Edie that his parents used to own the restaurant in the 1960's and that he hadn't been back to the restaurant since he was 11 years old! He had the idea to have the bachelor party at the same restaurant that his parents had owned 50 years prior.<br />
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Back then, the place was called "Garden of Eden" and it was a glorious downtown restaurant that seems like it thrived in the 1960's. It was then, as it is now, a family run establishment, serving delicious food and drink. The family goes by the name of Monasebian, although they spell it "Monas'bien" on the menu (as you can see in the picture above, depicting the front page of the menu). The Monasebians built the bar, and put a little pool with goldfish and plants in the middle of the dining room! The bar that they built is still that bar that is in the restaurant today. The pool, sadly, is no longer in the dining room. I am pretty sure that it was right in the middle, where Table 24a and 24B are today, and next time I am at the restaurant I am going to see if I can find some traces of the pool.</div>
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Mr. Monasebian in the dining room. 1965</div>
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The picture above shows Mr. Monasebian in the dining room. The column to his left is still there, although since the picture is so dark, it is hard for me to get my bearing on which direction we are looking. However, you can see the pool to his right, with flowers poking out next to him. </div>
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When his son was in for dinner, they brought with them an old menu from the place and also a bunch of pictures from the dining room and kitchen. Those are the pictures I am showing you all here. We, as the staff, were so interested that we were all huddled around these guys looking at the pictures and menu while our sections sat patiently on a busy Friday night. Tomoyo even gave the guys a tour into the basement (so that she could photocopy the pictures and menu) and they said it was the same as they remembered. In fact, the picture of the kitchen looks incredibly similar.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgod9EcNoJ0blztCmaIKRiKr92znRODJkcfu4B-V5dawa5gu_z4JJhCdshZV4KCNf95gUEoqyLj8W_LBYzlEUFJpUpO7f0R59EwVd_efDuTR6FkpPbLGG5psjbVrtoffz9msPf0TdAReng/s1600/IMG_6822.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgod9EcNoJ0blztCmaIKRiKr92znRODJkcfu4B-V5dawa5gu_z4JJhCdshZV4KCNf95gUEoqyLj8W_LBYzlEUFJpUpO7f0R59EwVd_efDuTR6FkpPbLGG5psjbVrtoffz9msPf0TdAReng/s1600/IMG_6822.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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In the kitchen of "Garden of Eden" 1965</div>
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The kitchen of today still has some of the same things in it, from 50 years ago. In this picture, you can see a metal structure hanging from the ceiling with metal hooks hung from it. That thing still hangs in the kitchen now. The shelf behind the head chef is still there and still in use today. You can see a server in the background under a stack of plates. We no longer keep plates there (we do keep pots and pans there), but it seems like that is where one would pick up food, which is the same as today. I admit, that when I first went into the kitchen at Cafe Loup, I was surprised by how small it was. I was then doubly surprised to see how much food could come out of such a small kitchen. But this being New York, you have to make it work with the space you have. Upon seeing this picture, I realized that they were working with the same size kitchen 50 years ago. Not only that, but it was set up the same way! So, these guys figured out how to make such a small space efficient, and it got handed down from owner to owner until today, where it is essentially the same setup now.</div>
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Some of the menu from "Garden of Eden" 1965</div>
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The menu was a real treat to look at. Not only for the things that they served, but for the prices! </div>
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Prime Rib for $3.95! Coffee for $.35! </div>
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I'm sure these prices were relatively high for the time, but this is New York! And this is Greenwich Village in it's prime (rib)! This was probably a place where you would dress up and take a special date or go with a group for family style dinners. You'd get some steak and some wine and have a grand old time. One of the great things on these menus, besides the food and prices, are the little sayings on the bottom: "Your Presence is a Compliment to Our Restaurant- Haste Ye Back!" That one is great, but the one on the next page, I think we should somehow incorporate into the current menu....</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK4ByRaim1JMjfinY1PrumCLVGzKAnFGLDE7Ua9j0o295q1-dhFuLQIIHq9do2MrMaKvPgI8z_SZVKtKIpt_FP43SAkMdAmUrtI9u6UBkxxPTxnSVnYIYyeoAk7Wt3DGzH_tAw5vGxjRI/s1600/IMG_6812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK4ByRaim1JMjfinY1PrumCLVGzKAnFGLDE7Ua9j0o295q1-dhFuLQIIHq9do2MrMaKvPgI8z_SZVKtKIpt_FP43SAkMdAmUrtI9u6UBkxxPTxnSVnYIYyeoAk7Wt3DGzH_tAw5vGxjRI/s1600/IMG_6812.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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More menu from "Garden of Eden" 1965</div>
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"Dinner Without Wine is Like a Day Without Sunshine." </div>
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Truer words have never been written. This whole page is incredible. When the guys showed us this page, it was literally like finding a treasure chest. From the warning that this new-fangled thing called curry is indeed very spicy to the "Shashlik" served on a flaming sword! This place must've been the best! I mean, you could get three lobster tails for $3.95, served with salad and a Baked Idaho potato! So amazing. </div>
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It seems like they also had some special occasions. I don't know for sure, but the next picture looks like there was a buffet every once and a while. I know that at my grandparents place in the 1960's, they used to have a buffet every Sunday evening. It was that way until the 80's, as I remember having to dress up in a little mini suit and tie every Sunday night to dine at the buffet. It was quite an event! This picture certainly reminded me of that time, even down to the chefs tall hat. The only thing that's missing is the decorative Jell-o molds with lobsters in them.</div>
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The buffet at "Garden of Eden" 1965</div>
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Yes, it looks like the Monasebian's had quite a place. I don't know where this picture of the buffet table was taken, but I have a theory. It seems like the back wall of the restaurant, which would be where Tables 36-40 are now. Now, there is a large banquette there (and photos of Janis and Jimi), and I know that in the place that replaced "Garden of Eden" this was a live room where bands would play. This seems to be that back, and the wall behind the Monasebian's seems to be lined with marble, as you can see a slight reflection of a light fixture just about the chefs hat. I could be wrong, but no matter what, the place looks so 60's glamorous! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2HDerC52jjmPZN18bkwT6KbgLtRBuq4M65dC7JfAFNLgEcasrs20wTuFw8MGM69UdxGmQ-g2cnDrpWNmwwpUo6ab0T6LYkZnJ1ivZbcimhL5oG4AFn_R7EBtR7ttkYnRHpozrQCKuuIQ/s1600/IMG_6816.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2HDerC52jjmPZN18bkwT6KbgLtRBuq4M65dC7JfAFNLgEcasrs20wTuFw8MGM69UdxGmQ-g2cnDrpWNmwwpUo6ab0T6LYkZnJ1ivZbcimhL5oG4AFn_R7EBtR7ttkYnRHpozrQCKuuIQ/s1600/IMG_6816.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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View from the pool. "Garden of Eden" 1965</div>
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Finally, here is a picture from across the pool. It depicts Mr. Monasebian seated while his guests put on their furs and prepare to depart for the evening. The pool is in the foreground and you can almost see the goldfish swimming around in it. </div>
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I am not sure when the Monasebian's sold the restaurant. The son, who was celebrating his bachelor party there two Fridays ago said that he hadn't been back to the restaurant in 50 years, so I am guessing they sold the place right round 1965, or so. Maybe not, maybe they kept it until the 70's, who knows. I don't know when it changed hands, as there is nothing about it on the internet that I can find. I even brought that point up a couple of posts ago, lamenting the fact that I didn't know what was in this space in the 1960's. "The Garden of Eden" must have been the first thing in the building, as the building itself was built in the 60's. What I find fascinating is that the place that I know of that replaced "The Garden of Eden" was called "The Bells of Hell." It's so poetic, and so New York. The owners of "The Bells of Hell" must have known the Monasebian's and known about the "Garden of Eden." They must have thought, "Well, we're not going to run a fancy dining room with live goldfish and flaming swords. We're going to run a honkey-tonk rock n' roll bar, so why not take the name in the exact opposite direction?" I think New York business owners of the past thought about that stuff more than they do today. I mean, Cafe Loup got it's name with the <a href="http://timandjeremy.blogspot.com/2013/05/41-35th-annual-womens-mini-golf_8.html">same sort of mind-frame</a>, but that's a different story. I like to think that for the past 50 something years, the little space on 13th St. has been both Heavenly and Hellish, and now serves as a kind of space in between the two. A place with both qualities, and now it lives in the body of a wolf, an earth-bound creature that for centuries has been both feared and respected by all those who come in contact with it. A perfect middle ground between Heaven and Hell.</div>
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Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-45215121767526321232015-04-01T11:36:00.000-07:002015-04-01T11:36:31.742-07:00#70 "Feather in Your Cap" in color!!! September 3, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-jVQvqSElVtAqt7-ZGyGajR8k8inbnL3akYc0uO0fCFsMjOPrkwbKh9BFA230sFLSPff2mlRXTVF8glhjQvIqrsFsx-HxGJq5K3svLTPPM986hlAyTD-t1CQev0e-ERt0ymYKrzE0aU0/s1600/Tim&Jeremy70.4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-jVQvqSElVtAqt7-ZGyGajR8k8inbnL3akYc0uO0fCFsMjOPrkwbKh9BFA230sFLSPff2mlRXTVF8glhjQvIqrsFsx-HxGJq5K3svLTPPM986hlAyTD-t1CQev0e-ERt0ymYKrzE0aU0/s1600/Tim&Jeremy70.4.jpg" height="176" width="640" /></a></div>
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We live in a time when people are obsessed with food. There's more than one network on television completely dedicated to different kinds of food. There are numerous cooking competition shows, even one that has kids competing to be the best chefs. It seems like people didn't even care about food before the millennium. Obviously some did, but if you look at history, it seems (to me anyway) that we live in a time when people think about the food they eat way more than they used to. I think that is great, as people should be interested in what they are putting into their bodies, but there are some downsides, especially as a waiter. One of my biggest peeves is the gluten allergy. I realize that it is a real thing, and a real horrible thing, but I also know that not as many people who claim to have this allergy actually have it.<br />
When I first started working in the food service industry back in the 90's, I never heard of allergies, really. I would come across the occasional lactose intolerant person, but had some told me they were allergic to gluten in 1996, I would not have known what they were talking about. I would have made some joke about them mispronouncing the word "glutton" and then told them to maybe eat less next time and then they wouldn't be allergic. Or some other "deadly sin" joke. Nowadays, as a server, you hear at least one person a night say they are allergic to gluten. So, because of that and because of this blog post, I went down various rabbit holes related to food allergies and was very surprised at the results. There are, of course, one thousand and one conspiracy theories about what is causing this huge spike in food allergies over the past 30 years, and this being the internet, you really have to cross reference a lot to figure out what is true and what is pseudoscience. Even then, you are left pretty much right back where you started.<br />
Let me backtrack for a second. Gluten allergies at the worst is called Celiac disease. When people with Celiac disease eat gluten, their body mounts an immune response and attacks the small intestine, causing horrible pain in the small intestine. This damages the small intestines and blocks it from absorbing nutrients, leading to larger problems, including anemia, migraines, miscarriages, and even intestinal cancer. The Celiac Foundation (which was only started in 1990) claims that Celiac disease is hereditary and is passed down from generation to generation. But the Foundation's website doesn't tell you how one develops a gluten allergy to pass down to your kids, like bad teeth and acne, so I had to wade through the muck and mire that is the internet.<br />
I googled "Gluten allergies 1990's" because I figured it was in the 90's that things started spiking (as I had not heard of a gluten allergy in the actual 90's and the Celiac Foundation didn't start until then). One of the first articles to come up was a 2013 study by an independent scientist and an MIT professor that you can read <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3945755/">here</a>. It's called "Glyphosate, pathways to modern disease II" and I read a lot of it, although not all of it. In the article, it maintains that Glyphosate, the main ingredient in RoundUp, the common most fertilizer in America is the direct culprit in the spike in Celiac disease and gluten intolerance in general. The article goes on to say that this Glyphosate is not only the main culprit for Celiac disease but a host of other diseases from cancer right on down. This made sense to me, as RoundUp was introduced in the mid 70's so by the time kids from that era started having kids (the 90's) they would have had ingested tons of Glyphosate in their Wonderbread peanut butter and fluff sandwiches. Thus, they would have passed down their gluten intolerance to their kids, and thus a gluten intolerance epidemic is formed. However, upon further reading, I found out that the article is mostly false and filled with so many "ifs, "mights," and "could be's" that it is not be taken seriously. And yet, it is the first thing to pop up when you google "gluten allergies 1990's" and is published on the National Center for Biotechnology Information site, which leads me to believe that anyone looking for a good gluten allergy conspiracy theory (and aren't we all, really?) can find all they need to know about the horrors of RoundUp in one site, and have it be totally believable because the website seems so legitimate. Also, when you think about possible culprits for disease, fertilizer seems like a pretty clear evil doer, so when you read something like RoundUp is causing everything from Celiac disease to autism, no one would blink an eye. The problem is that Glyphosate is very low in toxicity and breaks down in the soil in an extremely fast rate, making contact with your Wonderbread very unlikely.<br />
So where is this spike in gluten allergies coming from? The internet is filled with contradicting articles and theories, and the food service industry simply waves it all off as a giant lie that difficult customers on a diet use as an excuse to eat gluten free so they can fit into those jeans they used to wear in college. And that's the sad truth about it. You might have Celiac disease, and I am sorry to hear about that. Beer is awesome, and so is bread, and so are a bunch of other things that contain gluten. I feel bad that you risk your health if you come into contact with something that is going to affect your ability to have kids. I also hope that science can figure out why this disease has essentially tripled in the last 30 years, and can figure out a way to stop it. Imagine if they never did figure it out, and one day the whole planet was gluten free, many generations from now. No more wheat, no more beer, no more bread, no more cookies, no more muffins, no more pasta, no more tortillas, no more gravy, no more cereal, no more soy sauce. Maybe we'll be better off. Until then, the next beer's on me!*<br />
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*Not true. I think you still owe me one from that other time.</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-90078245372494468872015-03-11T13:29:00.000-07:002015-03-11T13:29:10.943-07:00#70 "Feather in Your Cap" September 3, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEKy1uQLzN9-sdPZLcZVd6CPXEOW5kdj6nz3tnf3HwcFcsGm9iuo4moypj1PbXUx8TkIgey9h0H6jssZtMar3jL5x9jjy18cK1eYdcFW9rrPoYqXCpPXDYE6P02hzw48VcaApaFuohchc/s1600/Tim&Jeremy70.2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEKy1uQLzN9-sdPZLcZVd6CPXEOW5kdj6nz3tnf3HwcFcsGm9iuo4moypj1PbXUx8TkIgey9h0H6jssZtMar3jL5x9jjy18cK1eYdcFW9rrPoYqXCpPXDYE6P02hzw48VcaApaFuohchc/s1600/Tim&Jeremy70.2.jpg" height="176" width="640" /></a></div>
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One of the most popular desserts at the Loup is the Chocolate Pudding. Actually, it is <i>the </i>most popular, hands down. We have a great assortment of desserts, and most of them are fantastic, but the chocolate pudding stands head an shoulders above the rest. I am not quite sure why that is besides the fact that it is <i>delicious.</i> It is simply your basic, every-day pudding, but there is something else that elevates it to a magical plane. Maybe it's the giant chocolate cookie that accompanies it, or maybe it's the fresh whipped cream dollop on top, or could it be the sprinkling of cocoa powder? It could be a combination of all of these things, but I think the not-so-secret ingredient of "love" that Jose puts into every batch is the real reason this dessert is such a hit with the downtown crowd.<br />
In the drawing above, the chocolate pudding is merely a bystander witnessing the scene lain before it. It was the last detail of this drawing to be added if I remember correctly. It stands proudly in it's parfait glass, complete with a spoon just waiting to be gobbled up by someone with a sweet tooth, or maybe someone who really likes dessert and has sweet teeth. The rest of the drawing unfolds before it, with all of the characteristic hi-jinx that are usually seen in this series of drawings. Including a severed head, and what self-respecting T&J drawing is complete with out one of those?<br />
So, as long as I have been working at the Loup, there has always been the chocolate pudding. I have seen some desserts come and go, but the pudding is always going to be around. We used to have this great dessert that is sadly missing from today's menu. It was called Sabayon, and it was incredible. For those of you who have not tried this particular delicacy, it is essentially just eggs, sugar, and some wine. It can usually be found in Italian restaurants since it has Italian origins, but we used to have one that could stand up to anyone's. Light and creamy, served with berries, it was something to behold. But alas, we got rid of it! No one misses it though, not like other things that disappear off the menu. There are still people who call the restaurant on a regular basis asking if we have the brains back on the menu. I have talked about brains here before, and there's a great story about them over here in <a href="http://timandjeremy.blogspot.com/2014/04/55-day-at-beach-april-24-2013.html">T&J #55</a>, but they are not a consistent item on the menu. They are the very definition of "special." But people still ask about them. One thing that I am glad we no longer serve, either on the special list or on the regular menu is the Duck Liver Beignets. Those things were toxic (no offense to the guys in the back who made them every day. It was not their fault that they were nature's own heart attack inducer). These things were crazy. They were essentially crepes that were filled with duck liver (think Passover style liver, not fois gras) and then deep fried. Then, they were served with a sweet sauce and served like a pizza, essentially. They were my nightmare, and I stand behind the food that I serve at the Loup, so this was one of those things that was difficult to serve. But people loved them anyway! Who am I to say what people are going to find delicious and nutritious? People would get the Beignets and then still have an entree after eating their weight in duck liver and crepe. It was truly a sight to behold.<br />
But I digress. We started this one off talking about desserts, so I guess we should finish off there as well. Not that it matters where we end. But dessert does come last, so we should stick to that. In the next post, you will see the pudding in color, then you are going to want it. This is the most reasonable response to the pudding. You see it, you want to eat it. I don't think I have ever served someone the pudding and them not like it. Some people can't eat a lot of it because they have already eaten too much rich things like Beignets and such, but they'll still try it out and fall in love all over again. And isn't that what dessert is all about?<br />
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Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-68109634055774166372015-02-26T16:18:00.004-08:002015-02-26T16:18:47.712-08:00#69 In Color!!! August 27, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The Cafe Loup art collection is pretty amazing. In the last post I wrote about the artists who are shown at the Loup with whom I had or have a personal relationship with. This time around, I am highlighting the more famous of the bunch, most of whom are no longer producing art on account of no longer being alive. I think only one of them is still among the living.<br />
Talking about the art at the Loup, one must start with Brassai. He is essentially the image of the Loup (notwithstanding the Loup's shadow puppet logo) and his work embodies the spirit of what the Loup achieves to be. There are about a dozen photographs of his adorning the walls of the dining room. They range from his photos of transvestites, to the cops on the beat, to portraits of Picasso and Matisse. We have a couple different photos of his on the back of our dessert menu and on the front of our wine cards. [Quick side note: Sean Lennon used to live on the block and would come in quite often. One time him and Yoko came in and I waited on them. He drew a picture of one of the girls from the Brassai photograph on the wine card. When he left, I took the drawing home. So, I now own an original Lennon drawing (of a Brassai photograph, drawn at the Loup. So meta).] I like all of the Brassai's we have in the dining room. I like his style. Being a night person, I can relate to his fascination with Paris at night, especially in the 30's. Obviously, that is why he is so famous. Pre-war Paris is just about the most romantic thing you could think of, and Brassai captured it better than anyone. My favorite piece we have by him is just above Table 12. There are a couple pictures there. One of them is of a couple on a bed in a brothel. Above that is a woman relaxing at the opium den. Whenever I have a couple of people sitting there who are being indecisive or just slow at ordering, I look up at this photograph and I am instantly calmed. The woman is so stoned, it's amazing. There's a little cat with her that is probably equally as high just from the contact buzz. Compositionally, I think there are better ones, but I just like how mellow this one is. It is truly a comforting thing when I am completely in the weeds or stressed out. The woman is essentially saying to me, "This, too, will pass."<br />
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Brassai </div>
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The most famous picture we have at the Loup is this next one, by the late Irving Penn. It is prominently displayed between Table 10 and Table 11 right up front. This is a great picture. It's called "Doug" and it is a portrait of the then leader of the Hell's Angels. I really love this piece and I look at it a lot. When you are surrounded by art all the time, sometimes you overlook it or take it for granted and it becomes part of the background. This one never does that. The steely gaze of this Doug character is so arresting, it commands attention. That, and dude's hair is epic. Penn did a shoot for Look magazine in 1967 photographing the hippies and Hell's Angel's of San Francisco's burgeoning hippie scene. He shot The Grateful Dead that day as well. His description is probably better than anything I could write about it, so here it is:</div>
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"<span style="text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">During the photographing the hippies and the rock groups surprised me with their degree of concentration. Their eyes remained riveted on the camera lens; they were patient and gentle. The distracted quality which I feared would be typical of this new kind of person was not a problem at all.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The Angels were something else again. They were like coiled springs ready to fly loose and make trouble. Being inside a building with their precious bikes (and the wives and children I had asked them to bring) frustrated their natural tendency to smash up the place and do mischief. The delays and provocations were endless. Still, the hypnotic lens of the camera and the confinement of the studio held them in check long enough for the pictures to be made. When the experience was over and their screaming bikes went down the road, I breathed [the] deepest sigh.</span><span style="font-family: helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;">"</span></span></div>
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Irving Penn "Doug" 1967</div>
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The next piece was bought by Lloyd himself, which is a little different, since most of the collection was bought by the previous owners, Bruce and Roxanne Bethany. As long as I have worked at the Loup, the front alcove has been adorned with a bulletin board where artists can pin up their gallery opening invitations. There are a lot of them on there from way back (I noticed one yesterday from April 2000!). But, on the board, right up front is a poster for the opening of an exhibit by the artist Eugene Von Bruenchenhein. This guy was an "outsider" artist and was never famous in his life time. He was a baker from Milwakee, Wisconsin. When he was done baking for the day, he and his wife/muse Marie would make art. Photo shoots, drawings, paintings, and essentially installations were constructed and executed. When he died, thousands of pieces were left behind, including thousands of these pin-up style portraits of his wife Marie. On the poster on the bulletin board, poor Marie's breasts have been poked though by a decades worth of push-pins, but she remains cheerfully staring out at all of coming and going guests. A couple years ago, Lloyd finally bought one of these photographs after being obsessed with them (and the poster) for years. I couldn't find the exact one that hangs in the restaurant, but the one below seems to be from the same time period/photo shoot. To see the actual piece, you'll have to come in sometime and sit up front at Table 11. It's proudly placed right beside the Penn. Lloyd was so happy when he brought it in and showed it to me for the first time. He was grinning from ear to ear and as he hung it on the wall he said to me , "Not bad for a baker's wife, eh, Junior?"</div>
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Eugene Von Bruenchenhein</div>
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This next piece is by the only living artist in this post. It is a print by the Irish artist John Kindness. Besides having an awesome last name, this guy's print is pretty sweet. It hangs in the back, by Table 36, so it has a soft spot in my heart. When I was new at the Loup, the back section was always mine. It is the easiest section, on some levels, so all the new people start out back there. I was back there for a couple years, and I got to know this picture pretty well. It's pretty simple; just a rubber ducky and the ducky's interior bone structure. Pretty simple, but that is what I like about it. We serve a delicious duck dish at the restaurant, so I think it's fitting that this little fellow commands the back corner. In fact, there is a little shrine dedicated to ducks in that back corner. There is a duck pull toy, and depending on the day, there is even a little duck toy that looks just like the one depicted in the picture. It may have been stolen though. That happens sometimes. Anyway, this guy lived in New York for a while in the 90's, so I bet that's when the Bethany's picked this one up. I could be wrong though. It is certainly the most playful of all the art at the Loup.</div>
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John Kindness</div>
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"Cocteau In Bed With Mask, Paris 1927" by Berenice Abbott hangs above Table 18. This is one of Abbott's early works, before she moved to Greenwich Village in 1935. She is most known for her work once she moved to New York. However, when she was living in Paris, she became famous, and her portraiture was a veritable "Who's Who" of the Parisian art scene. She had moved there in the 20's and started working with Man Ray. She must have known Brassai as they were working side by side at the time, and both in Paris. In this portrait, the artist, playwright, writer, and overall eccentric Jean Cocteau is seen "sleeping" with a mask. I've always liked this piece, as it is surreal without being over the top. I don't know what Cocteau's hands look like, and I have always imagined these hands to be someone else's. I am not sure if that is true, but they certainly look like they could belong to another person; a woman, perhaps? Anyway, I am also fascinated by the fact that she would have him "sleeping" like this, since he was such an active artist and socialite. Maybe it is because he never slept, and so it was funny to them to portray him in this manner. At any rate, it's an interesting piece even though at first glance it seems so simple. Another fun tidbit; this Cocteau character looks a lot like our handsome bar tender, Jay Milite! They could be cousins! Check out the similarities next time you are in on a Friday or Saturday evening.</div>
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Berenice Abbott</div>
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Dorothy Dehner's print hangs over Table 5 on the column right in front of the bar. She was an artist who lived in New York from the late twenties until her death in the 1994. She was mainly a sculptor, but she studied printmaking with Stanley William Hayter at Atlier 17. He was working on a technique he called "simultaneous color printing" which is what we see here, even though Dehner uses color sparingly. I studied printmaking in college and have given this piece the old college critique plenty of times. What stood out to me initially was the dirty edges. That was always such a sore subject in my classes that it was burned into my head to always, <i>always</i>, clean the edges of the plate before running it through the press. However, Dorothy never learned that lesson, or if she did, she ignored it and printed it with some filthy edges. Using the "simultaneous color printing" method, she inked up this plate (probably copper) with black ink into the grooves that she had etched, and then rolled on the red to the raised surface of the plate and then ran it through the press. This poor piece gets moved around a lot. It is on the blind side of the column, so when people come in and sit down at Table 5 with a bulky coat or backpack, the piece gets jostled. There are even marks on the wall that show the history of the constant movement, which is a bit of a shame since this woman has work hanging in MoMA.</div>
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Dorothy Dehner</div>
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Finally, we have "Mirror" by George Tooker. Another print in this same edition has a home in the Smithsonian, but you can see it just down the street at the Loup! Tooker was an American artist living in New York during the second half of the 20th century. He was well respected in his time as an artist and had shows (and work in the collections of ) MoMA, the Whitney and other prominent institutions. This lithograph hangs above Table 43 in the back of the restaurant. Unless you are sitting at Position 3, the print goes largely unnoticed, even though it is right there on the wall. I think this is because how the banquette at Table 43 is positioned. It's too bad that it's not more noticeable, although I like this place for this piece. It's a nice reminder of ones mortality while taking orders from a table of 25.</div>
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George Tooker "Mirror" 1978</div>
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The Cafe Loup has so much more art, and shows so many more artists than just these that I have mentioned. One of these days, I will find The List and give you more of a glimpse into the extensive collection at the Loup. I mean, I didn't even get into the sculptures. I guess I will leave that for another time. Until then, make sure you come down and visit. We'll have Jay Milite mix us up a couple grapefruit margaritas and we'll talk art!</div>
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Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0105 West 13th Street, New York, NY 10011, USA40.7368352 -73.99774279999996940.7367882 -73.997821799999969 40.736882200000004 -73.99766379999997tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-84361301827268681892015-02-25T10:56:00.000-08:002015-02-26T11:36:57.831-08:00#69 August 27, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is a blog about art at work, and yet I have never really focused on the incredible art collection of the Cafe Loup. I have mentioned that we have a great photography collection, but I haven't gone into the detail of the fantastic works that are housed in that small section of 13th Street.<br />
The majority of the collection was amassed by the original owners, Bruce and Roxanne Bethany. They had been collecting for some time, and put their favorites(?) inside the Loup. They bought some and some were gifts, by artists who frequented the establishment or who were friends. When they sold the place to Lloyd and Ardes in 1995, the collection stayed.<br />
The first artist who is also a regular that comes to mind is Nancy Grossman. She still comes into the restaurant and likes to sit underneath her collage at Table 25. You have seen it if you ever came in to watch the jazz on Sundays; it hangs right behind the musicians. Grossman has worked in many different media, including leather dominatrix masks with horns and zippers. Her piece in the Loup is a little more tame, a collage made specifically for the Loup that includes the matchbooks we used to have. I can't find any pictures of it on the web, but it is similar to her collage pictured below. She even uses the circles seen on the bottom of this piece in her piece at the Loup. We used to have a large table there instead of two small ones and a piano. That used to be in my section and I spent a lot of time looking at that piece. The average amount of time that people look at a piece of art is 17 seconds. I looked at that one (and a lot of the work at the Loup) for a overall total of 17 hours. At least.<br />
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Another former guest who donated a couple pictures was the late Jim Marshall. He was a boisterous guy who would come in arm in arm with models two feet taller that he was. Broken nose, raspy voice and drinking scotch, he would control the room while at the same time being a very genial and respectful guy. In his day, he photographed all of the jazz and rock greats from the 60's until just before he died in 2010. You have no doubt seen his iconic rock 'n roll photography if you have ever opened a Rolling Stone, or just about any other publication dealing with rock. We have a couple of his prints; Janis, Jimi, Chet, Woody Allen (stoically watching over the bar), Elia Kazan, and Coltrane, but my favorite is Miles. I love that Jim got these pictures of Miles outside of the place where we usually are used to seeing him. There is no trumpet in sight, in fact, if you didn't know it was Miles, you just might think it was a picture of a boxer. But no, it's one of the greatest performers of all time. In a boxing ring.<br />
In a fun "small world" moment, Jim and I shared a funny little story. My band, Project Jenny, Project Jan was on tour and we were playing a bunch of shows on the Left Coast. One of the stops we were playing was The Independent in San Francisco and we were staying with our friend Mike Winger. We met up with Mike as soon as we got into town and he brought us to his house. He lived in this big old San Francisco house on the upper floor. As we were climbing the stair of the front porch, I saw a sign on the mail slot of the lower level of the house that read, "Mail for JIM MARSHALL ONLY." I jokingly said, "Oh, I know that guy, the famous rock n' roll photographer." and Mike turned to me and said, "You know him?" It turned out that it was the same Jim Marshall! He and Mike were good friends as they had been living literally on top of one another for years. Mike had a bunch of prints that were given to him as gifts and Jim had even taken the Winger family portrait for their Christmas cards! I loved it. The next time I saw Jim in New York I told him the whole story and we had a good laugh over the small worldliness of it all. Now that I think of it, that may have been the last time the two of us spoke, as he died less than a year after that.<br />
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Ken Heyman also gave us a couple pieces, one of them very recently. Ken is in his 80's now but still finds time to come in for lunch every once and a while. Him and Tim are good friends as Tim usually takes care of him when he comes in for martinis and oysters (and curiously sits under Nancy Grossman's collage). He has two pieces at the Loup. One is above Table 11, and depicts skinny-dippers at Woodstock. The other is of Ernest Hemingway, prominently hanging over the piano. I had the pleasure of waiting on him one time and he told me the story of how he got the photograph, as Hemingway was exiled in Cuba at the time and was very grumpy about people taking his picture. Ken was a youngster at the time (this being 1957) and was visiting his friend in Cuba. His friend in the U.S, when learning he was going to Cuba bet him he couldn't find Hemingway and photograph him. So Ken took that as a challenge, and upon arriving to Cuba, decided to seek out Mr. Hemingway. He found his villa after asking around and went up to visit him. At first, Hemingway blew him off, but the invited Ken to go fishing the next day. Ken didn't know where to find Hemingway on his boat, so he never went fishing, but the day after, Ken showed up at the house again and this time wouldn't leave without a picture. He hung out in his car, in which he had a transistor radio, which he was playing to pass the time. After a while, Hemingway came out and finally invited Ken to come inside. Ken asked if he could take some pictures of Hemingway, and he responded with something like, "All the most famous photographers in the world want to take my picture, why should I let you (some kid) get the chance?" But Ken had the transistor radio, and legend has it that he traded Hemingway the radio to take a couple pictures of him. The result now hangs over the piano at the Cafe Loup.<br />
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It also kind of looks like the current owner, and head chef, Lloyd. Many people think that it <i>is </i>Lloyd until you tell them that it is, in fact, one of America's greatest writers.<br />
In the next post I will go into more detail about the collection, but I thought this was a good place to start. All of the artists mentioned here I have actually interacted with and have some sort of relationship with. The other artists in our collection are either dead or not having dinner with us that often.<br />
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Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-32319552153688528252015-02-23T12:00:00.000-08:002015-02-23T12:00:40.023-08:00#68 "Make Your Wish" In Color! August 9, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I am not a writer.<br />
When I started writing these blog posts almost 5 years ago, it was really just to showcase the drawings. I was only posting the drawings on Bookface before posting them here, and in Bookface there was no description of the drawings, how they were conceived, or any information at all except the number of the drawing. We didn't even name them on there, it would just show up one day as "Tim & Jeremy's Mind on Loup #68!!!" Usually with three exclamation points. When number one hundred was posted, I used all caps. No one cared.<br />
As the blog posts seemed to get longer and longer I also started thinking about them differently. Originally, I would make a couple comments about the drawings themselves, but then I started thinking about the restaurant more. Since these drawings are all done in the restaurant, during the operating hours of service, I thought that it would be more fun for my 8 regular readers to get a glimpse of life within the restaurant.<br />
The Loup is, after all, a strange and magical place. It has been at 105 W. 13th St. since 1989, and was conceived a decade earlier in a different location also on 13th St. Since that time, it has become a neighborhood staple. Regulars know they can come in any time for comfort food and strong, delicious martinis. It is a safe haven for artists and celebrities, who know they can show up and dine unmolested by tourists or people looking for autographs. And then there is the literary aspect. When the restaurant was first opened in 1977 by Bruce and Roxanne Bethany, they decided to court the literary community. They decided that if the place was full of writers, the rest of the world would follow. They were right. Writers of all types have haunted, and still haunt the walls of the Cafe Loup. From Salman Rushdie and Christopher Hitchens' wild late nights, to young unknown poets struggling to buy a pint, the restaurant has been a comfort zone and meeting spot to an entire generation (or two) of New York literati.<br />
Of course I had no idea about any of that when I walked through the doors in 2002 and handed someone my resume. For me, it was off a convenient subway line, it was in a cool neighborhood, and it was a on a block with a bunch of other restaurants so it was easy for me to walk up and down the block dropping off resumes. At the time, I had been unemployed for months and so I would go out every day looking for jobs wherever I could. I was cold-calling places, like the Loup; I was going on mass cattle calls that I found in the back section of the Village Voice, and any other method I could think of to get a job; any job. So when I got the call from the Loup, I was just happy to get a call back. I didn't care if it was a Village Institution. I didn't care if it was a Writer's Bar. I was just happy to get a full schedule and the ability to pay my rent. It wasn't until much later that I realized the respect and admiration the people of New York felt for this little restaurant. I was always a little jealous of the regulars because they had this incredible place to go night after night and interact with all these interesting people. Later on I realized that I was not only part of that, I was helping to continue the tradition of making it people's favorite spot. Cafe Loup <i>was </i>my regular bar, and I got paid to be at it. It was a wonderful revelation, and even though I do have some favorite regular places outside of the Loup (aka work), I still consider it my regular place.<br />
I went off on that tangent to let you know about the restaurant a little, although I am sure I have written all of that in some form or another throughout this blog sometime in the past. The original point of this blog post was going to be me going on a self deprecating rant about how I am not a writer, or how I don't describe myself as a writer. I write this blog out of a weird compulsion to continue writing about these drawings in relation to the restaurant that they were created in. It really is compulsory in that I have no motive, I have no goal in mind for the drawings or for the text that accompanies them. Tim and I have talked about making them into a book someday, and maybe some of this text could be included somewhere in there, but that is not the motivating force for me to continue writing. The truth is, I don't know why I keep writing these things. I think it might be a way of processing the work experience and trying to convey it in a clear and concise manner that helps me understand my past 13 years at this establishment. Not that it is important or even very interesting. Maybe I am trying to defend to myself my employment at a place for such a long period of time, even though working at the Loup has given me the freedom that I moved to New York for in the first place. I needed a place that was steady where I could work while pursuing my other interests, which have been incredibly varied in the decade and a half that I have called New York my home.<br />
So, when you read these posts, I hope you enjoy them, but also know that I am almost writing them as a diary that I might look at some day to help me remember this time and place in my own history. I always say that in an ever-changing world, at least the Cafe Loup stays the same. I sincerely hope that it stays the same forever, but I know that it won't. Some day it will be a Duane-Reade with a Starbucks kiosk in it, and the Cafe Loup name will be in every mall in America as a "New York style French Bistro." Then, you and I will be able to come back and read all of these blog posts and remember a time that was, of people that were, and a special place in the middle of it all. And we can all laugh at all of my typos, run-on sentences, and basic inability to write in the English language. Until then, I'll see you at the Loup!<br />
<br /></div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-40529726562739587322015-02-23T09:51:00.000-08:002015-02-23T09:51:52.498-08:00#68 "Make Your Wish" August 9, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Bad Co-Workers<br />
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Everyone has bad co-workers. Maybe you have one or more at your place of business. Maybe you <i>are </i>the bad co-worker and you don't know it. Sometimes it is hard to see yourself as others see you, and when you do the same job over and over, you tend not to notice the small things that you are doing that can be incredibly annoying to the ones working around you. I was that guy once.<br />
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I had been working in New York for three years at that point. Working in any kitchen is going to be an education of swear words in at least two languages, but in New York it is brought to the next dimension. I could barely put an order in the kitchen without insulting someone or having to defend my girlfriend, mom, and all of my female cousins and aunties. So, I decided to take some time off and go work at my mom's restaurant where the pace was a little slower. I was working there for about a month, when my mom pulled me aside and said we needed to have a little chat. I literally did not know what it was about. So, we sat down and she said essentially, "I am going to have to fire you if you don't start treating the kitchen staff with a little more respect." Now, the staff at the time was my cousins and my brother-in-law on the grill. Not exactly people who I was aiming to piss off. As my mom was having this conversation, I looked back on my behavior from the last month and I realized I had been treating these guys like the kitchen in New York had been treating me. And I realized that I had gone full circle and was now the bad co-worker. These guys, my own family, had taken it upon themselves to complain to my own mother about my behavior. Then, my own mother threatened to fire me because of my bad attitude. I was amazed because I hadn't even realized what I was doing. I had gone from one kitchen to the next thinking that all kitchens must run this way, and they run on insults and negative vibes. I mean, I should have known better, I had worked in plenty of kitchens before, and not all of them were so dysfunctional. And, to give credit where credit is due, that dysfunctional kitchen was pretty darn functional. We put out an insane amount of dinners with a small staff and an even smaller kitchen, and night after night, they went out without a hitch. These guys had the thing down to a science. And maybe that was why they were always so nasty; they were just bored. Yeah, they could serve up 200 dinners every night 300 days a week, but so what? Let's talk shit about your new haircut! What ever the reason, it had rubbed off on me and I was continuing the cycle of negativity. But I vowed to break the cycle and be more aware of my actions, and lo and behold I wasn't fired. That was the turning point for me to be a better co-worker though, that's for sure. Never again would I step into a situation thinking that I could get by on the actions I had been getting by with prior to that situation.<br />
<br />
Not like I am always the greatest co-worker to this day. I am still a pain in the neck, like everyone else, but I try my best to stay positive in the work environment. The way I look at it these days is this: I am only at the job a finite number of hours in the week; why not try to make those hours as pleasant as possible by keeping a positive mental attitude. It's not always easy when you are stressed out, hungry, overworked, broke, and tired. In fact, it's hard to stay positive anywhere, and the last place you think that is possible is in the workplace; a place you don't really want to be but kind of have to be or else you'll be traveling the countryside with a polka-dotted bag tied to a stick. I find that copious amounts of coffee help, and then at a certain time of the evening, a glass of wine does wonders. We call it, "The Attitude Adjustment." So, what I'm saying is that I need medication to stay sane in the workplace. Haha. This entire project grew partly because literally keeping ones head down and pushing through the shift was sometimes the best way to cope with unsavory co-workers. It became so much more, but that was certainly one of the original reasons for the project.<br />
<br />
Of course, all this talk about positive mental attitude goes out the window when you are working with truly terrible co-workers. It's hard to stay positive when someone you work with is actually costing you money. Once you cross the threshold of being annoying to the next level of actively harming your co-workers financially, then maybe it is time to look in to another line of work, or at least another place of business. And yet, people stay at the same job far after they've overstayed their welcome. I am probably one of them! I wrote in the last blog post about my brunch colleagues and I not getting along all that well. A sane person would've said, "Well, it's been three years and this person still doesn't like me, maybe I should look for a new job." But I stuck it out for another 10 years! I outlasted the people who didn't like me, or I grew on them so much that they ended up, if not liking me, than at least tolerating me enough to work alongside me for another handful of years.<br />
So, I guess the takeaway is that there are always bad co-workers and you just have to try not to be one of them. As far as the guys in the kitchen are concerned; I still work with half of the original crew. We still go back and forth with each other, but after working together for 13 years, it has become more of a secret language than insults. When a new person is introduced onto the scene, all we have to do is say one word, and the whole crew ends up laughing. Except, of course, the poor new dude.</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-91638173943623132492015-02-18T09:26:00.000-08:002015-02-18T09:26:40.146-08:00#67 "Otto's Summer Vacation" In Color! August 6, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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For one reason or another, I remember starting this one (or at least adding the strange baldish woman[?] in pink) on Mother's Day 2011. How can I even remember that, you ask? Well, the answer to your question is that I have no idea how I can remember drawing a specific drawing on a specific date nearly four years ago. My memory is not that great, to tell you the truth. I blame it on years of hard living, and the fact that so much happens to a person living in New York City that it gets harder and harder to remember things. As one living in NYC, you are constantly being bombarded with sensory experiences. Just getting to work, you are surrounded by people, noise, movement, showtime, traffic, and of course, more movement. Add in a fair amount of partying, and you can easily forget what you just did two nights ago. Of course, you can go back and really concentrate on what you've been doing with yourself for the past week, but to go back and remember what you did on a random Tuesday last month, or Mother's Day in 2011? That seems difficult.<br />
However, I know that I started drawing that woman[?] on that day. Here's the story.<br />
Let's back up to when I first started working at the Loup 13 years ago. I had to work Sunday brunch for the first 5 years I worked there, as far as I can remember. It was a brutal shift. I was in my 20's and I was going out all the time. Having to be at work and functional on a Sunday morning was the last thing I wanted to be doing, but I had to pay my dues. We were never really that busy during brunch, so it would have been fine, but for some of my co-workers who certainly did not like me when I first started. They would make my already dreary mornings a living hell. And so we worked together for 5 years, eventually becoming "friends" in the process; actually a couple people who could tolerate each others company while working together. So, it was right around this time that Lloyd decided brunch needed a face lift and added jazz to the mix. So now, even to this day, the Loup has Sunday jazz brunch. At that time, we also dabbled in the idea of having jazz three nights a week with The Junior Mance Trio. Junior didn't really like that gig, and so now we have the Trio every Sunday evening. That is worth coming in for. As I have probably mentioned before, Junior is a legend, and to see him at such an intimate venue is a treat that you can't get anymore virtually anywhere else in the world. Jazz brunch, on the other had, is like punishment. Thankfully for me, I only overlapped with the jazz brunch for a very short amount of time, and so I got to have the experience, and then be happy in the knowledge that I didn't have to work it anymore. However, sometimes people are out of town and need to have their shifts covered. I will happily cover shifts for my co-workers; even Sunday brunch, albeit grudgingly.<br />
So, that's what happened on Mother's Day 2011. Tomoyo must have been in Japan or something and I picked up her Mother's Day brunch shift along with my Sunday night bar shift, making for a Mother's Day that we ended up calling "Your Mother's Day." ("no, your mother's day!") I like to party and I like the ponies, and The Kentucky Derby happened to fall on the day before Mother's Day that year. So the day before, I was down in West Chester, Pennsylvania watching the Derby with some friends of mine. A couple of us knew that we had to come back to the city first thing on Sunday, so we didn't party that hard. Just kidding. We woke up on Mother's Day and three of us slogged into my boy Cramer's Mini Cooper. I was in the best shape, so I drove. Cramer promptly curled up in the back seat and passed out, while Gabrus and I laughed our way to New York.<br />
Once I got to work and had my coffee, the Mother's Day crowd started filing in. We weren't particularly busy, and so I started drawing this picture. The band was playing and my drawing was the closest thing I could do to tune them out. But, right around the time I was finishing up the woman[?] that's when the torture started. The band leader's wife got up and started singing. She does this sometimes, and it is pure insanity. Her song choice is nuts, her tone is deaf, and it creates a sound not unlike fingernails on a chalkboard. Of course, this is just my opinion and who am I to judge? So, I start tensing up and then it all goes to hell once she goes into her second number. I can't tell what the melody is until she launches into the first verse. "Chicks and ducks and geese better scurry..." Yes, she was singing "Surrey with the Fringe on Top" from Oklahoma. But in the jazzy mood.<br />
I couldn't handle it. The song broke something in my brain. I dropped my pen and went out from behind the bar and out of the restaurant, letting the waiters know that it was a self-serve bar for <i>at least</i> the time it took for this song to be over.<br />
So, did we get to the bottom of this? I think we did. I think I remember that I started this drawing on Mother's Day 2011 because I went through a traumatic experience that day, and because of that, I remember the exact origin of this slightly unnerving drawing. The brain can work in mysterious ways. In fact, even though we know that we have a brain and it controls everything we do as humans, we have very limited knowledge about how it actually works. So chalk this one up as another unexplained little nugget of mystery. It's funny too, because the more I stare into the black eyes of that woman[?], the more it reminds of those dark days of working brunch, where the coffee is never full enough, the eggs are never fluffy enough, and the Bloody Mary's never have enough booze.</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-46685160145087882062015-02-17T10:46:00.000-08:002015-02-17T10:46:00.749-08:00#67 "Otto's Summer Vacation" August 6, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I had been sitting on this blog post for a while, and now it has come back to bite me in the buttocks. I should have written a nice puff piece about Syracuse University athletics. I should have written about my lifelong fandom of Syracuse football, basketball, and lacrosse. I should have listed all my favorite basketball teams, players and eras. But I didn't. I waited too long, and now this picture has been convicted by the University to be illegal enough to warrant banning this year's basketball team from the post season.<br />
For those of you who don't follow men's college basketball, Syracuse has had a very good team every year since I was a child. Growing up in Syracuse, the basketball team helped everyone get through brutal winters and gave us something to cheer about in those dark times. I grew up and moved away from Syracuse, but my fandom stayed with me, until it reached it's peak in 2003 when Syracuse won the National Championship game with Carmello Anthony, Gerry McNamara, and a whole bunch of talented young men and a swagger that would have taken them to the Promised Land again the next year, had Carmello not gone Pro. Since then, I still watch numerous games throughout the year, and always watch The Cuse in The Tournament. Not only to I watch and cheer them on in the Tournament, when I fill out my brackets, I always have them winning the whole enchilada. Some people tell me that the method I use is insane and will never win me any money, but hear me out. If I won some money on my brackets one year and I had The Cuse not winning, it would be a hollow victory. Second, and more of a nightmare for me, is what if The Cuse <i>did</i> win and I had picked someone else to win it all over The Cuse? How would I live with myself?! For the rest of my life, I would say, "Yes, I am happy we won it all that year, but you'll never believe I picked Loyola to win it all!" Bonehead move! So, I always have them winning the whole thing, and I have only seen that happen once. It's not as crazy as it sounds, either. The Cuse is usually ranked in the top ten every year, so the probability of them winning the whole thing each year is actually pretty good. Better than Loyola's chances, for instance.<br />
So, this year, Syracuse is on probation and it's 2014-2015 season is shot. The Seniors won't be able to play in the Post-season at all this year. The reason why is pictured above. That's right, Otto the Orange is a degenerate druggie. No, actually, the real reason is way more boring. It's about possible manipulation of grades, hours that interns were given, and other boring things that all Universities with huge football and basketball programs do, but only some are getting caught or being made examples of. I wish they were on probation because of Otto's weed abuse. Otto was born to The Cuse in 1980. Prior to that, the mascot was an indian, or "Saltine Warrior," since Syracuse was once known as The Salt City. Native Americans successfully petitioned against the Saltine Warrior in 1978, and the mascot was dropped from the University. They went through one more iteration before Otto came on the scene. Then, Otto wasn't an "official" mascot of the University until 1995. It was around this time that Otto started smoking pot. You see, the team was really good back then, and Otto was a little nervous about becoming "Official." So, he started smoking grass, and he really liked it. This continued for fifteen years, and what a great span of time that was! A National Title game in 1996, a victory in 2003, the longest (and greatest?) game ever in 2009, and so many great young kids to smoke with! Well, the NCAA caught wind of what Otto was up to on off days and after the crowds had left The Dome for the night and they were not happy. They started hounding the University until finally they had no choice but to self-impose a post season ban. Otto, of course, is devastated, as he always travels with the team in the post season. Upon hearing the news, Otto invited the whole team to his little cave underneath The Dome for one last killer session before giving up marijuana forever.<br />
Or, until next summer.<br />
Until then, you can see Otto cheering on his beloved Orange at home games from now until the season ends in March. Then, we'll pack up this miserable season and get on with our lives, eagerly awaiting next year's hopefully "Probation-free" year. As for the Cuse-free tournament this year; I might still have the Cuse win the whole thing. Sure, they won't actually be in the running, but I bet they still have better odds of winning it over Loyola.</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-2267497168848122452015-01-13T10:48:00.000-08:002015-01-13T10:48:50.737-08:00#66 "The Dirty Shirty Gang" In Color!!! July 17, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The Music Boxer<br />
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I hadn't been to work in a while. I was somewhere, I forget where now. It was probably one of two places, but the specifics are lost on me now. I was settling in to work as one does after an extended time away from the workplace. You know, when you are kind of happy to be back and working again, but still a little melancholy about the trip you were just on. You think about where you were a week ago, two thousand miles from work, where your co-workers were the whole time, toiling away while you were on a beach or something.<br />
But I was kind of happy to be back. I certainly needed the money.<br />
I was excited to get started, to see some of the regulars and chat about the adventures I had been on. I would tell them the highlights and maybe the lowlights. We would talk about getting there and getting back. Somehow people always like to talk about that. It's almost like it comforts them to know that going on a long trip requires a fair amount of travel between the two places. If this travel takes a turn for the worse, it helps the person who never left feel better that they never left. It makes them think that well, I didn't go anywhere but thank goodness I didn't, with all that confusion and hassle just getting there and back.<br />
I was back. The guys in kitchen had already made the usual jokes about me not having a job anymore, they had given it away to someone else since I was gone too long. I had already told the stories over dinner to my co-workers, eager to hear something new. We weren't open yet, but there was already a little buzz of activity over at the bar. My Monday was their Friday. My first day back was their end of a long, awful week. They needed that first, second, and third drink. I needed some coffee.<br />
I went into the coat room to change clothes, from my street clothes into my work attire. Button down shirt, tie, and bistro apron. I put on my King Kong tie and tucked it in so only the bi-planes flying high over the Empire State building were visible, while Kong himself stayed hidden beneath my shirt. People really loved that tie, somehow, even without seeing that Kong was always hidden away, minutes from an ugly death.<br />
It was then that I heard it. It had been the next CD in the 5 disc CD player the whole time, I simply hadn't recognized that the previous CD was the same as it always was. And now, this. This one CD that was on an endless repeat. Waiting patiently as 4 other CDs played before it, until it spins into place and starts. I don't know exactly how long it had been in there. It must have been years, spinning around in the same order and playing the same music 6 nights a week for how long? How could anyone gauge that? The only people who would know tried not to think about it. Outside of the place, we all put it out of our minds; tried our best to not think about the tunes. I'm sure some of us dreamed about the tunes, over and over again, playing in our work nightmares. The trumpet, the saxophone, that one solo, that one note that isn't right but is so ingrained in our minds that if it were to magically become correct we would all revolt.<br />
The whole CD came back to me in those first couple of notes. I could see the entire setlist in my head, knew all of the parts and all of the breaks. I didn't need to hear it, it was so deep within my psyche, I could recite it a capella on the street corner and pick up some extra change. I hadn't thought about it for the entire time I was gone, and now, within one hour of being back, here it was, waiting to greet me upon my returning. Like a bully waiting for me after school, waiting to beat me up because he liked the girl I liked but couldn't articulate himself enough to make her notice. He just bellowed and howled out the same tunes over and over again, punching, kicking and scratching at me with them until I wore them as scars.<br />
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Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-16903621321999218232015-01-13T09:32:00.000-08:002015-01-13T09:32:21.897-08:00#66 "The Dirty Shirty Gang" July 17, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Being a server or bartender in America, you are dependent on the system of tipping. We make a hourly wage, but it is the minimum wage, so in New York, it comes to about $5.00 an hour. That's double what waiters are making in 19 states, the lowest being $2.13 an hour to wait tables. That is not a lot of money, to say the least, so we depend on the system of tipping. A lot of people are against this system and think it should be abolished completely, with servers then making a salary like any other profession. I am of the school of thought that this is not going to happen any time soon, as it is not something that anyone ever thinks about unless they are working in the restaurant business. People who have never worked in a restaurant know that they have to tip, and so many times it becomes a power trip for them, or a discriminatory act. Some people hold the tip over their servers head nearly from the get-go, saying some things like, "we're going to be a pain in the ass, but we leave good tips." Other people warn you, usually in a joking manner, like when you spill a little water, or worse, some of the drink; "<i>That's </i>coming out of your tip!" It seems to me that at the end of the night, the tips have a way of equalling out, so you'll get those awful tips, but then you'll have some great tippers, so the two offset.<br />
There are some instances in which the tip is entirely lost because of the way people divide up the tip. These days, most people pay by credit card. I don't mind this although our tips are then taxed, but most places these days also collect the cash tips at the end of the night and put it all in the pot so it's all taxed anyway. This is not the case at our place, so our cash tips are tax free. Again, since most people don't pay cash, or tip in cash, this money is usually just a couple bucks here and there; enough to buy a round of drinks, essentially. What really irks me though, and this was the point of this rant, is when people divide the check between each other using cash and credit card, because the majority of these people do it incorrectly. I am here to let you know the incorrect method and hope that in the future, you and your friends will divide it better. So, the incorrect way, and the way that is most commonly seen is as such. Two (or more) people will be dividing the check, I will come over to the table and one of them will hand me a bunch of cash, a card or two, and say, "put the rest on the card." That is incorrect! What usually happens in this case is, I do just that; I count the cash (9 times out of 10 it is more than half of the bill because people are "adding on the tip" as part of their cash payment) and then I run the card. Most times, I pick up the credit card slip and the tip that has been left is only counting the money on the credit card slip, so I am only being tipped on half of the bill. This happens all the time. For some reason, people don't understand that this is happening. They think that since the cash payer "included" the tip in their part of the bill that we are going to get that "extra" money as a tip. But, when someone asks to "put the rest on the card" they obviously know how much they owe. So, if you take out the cash tip, and put more money on the card, they accuse you of overcharging. Some of the time, the people who are paying with credit cards will leave the right amount for the tip, but most of the time, in this scenario, the waiter gets half of the tip that is standard. If the credit card payer is a lousy tipper, then it is sometimes even less.<br />
The correct way of doing this is so achingly simple, it makes me crazy each and every time I get the line, "put the rest on the card." Before I get to that, let me just preface this statement with the following. I realize that not everyone who comes into the restaurant has a lot of money on their debit card. I realize that a lot of the people paying with credit cards are behind on their payments and drowning in debt. I understand all of this. But, this does not excuse you from paying for your meal. So, with that said, here is the correct way to divide the check with cash and a credit card.<br />
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Whoever is paying cash in the party gives the cash to the person who is paying with the credit card. The person paying with the credit card keeps the cash and puts the whole bill on the card.<br />
Boom. Simple.<br />
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This way, the whole bill goes on the credit card, the credit card payer can leave tip in cash or credit form, and everyone is happy! The cash payer can feel good about his "tip included" payment, the credit card payer now has some cash on their person, and the tip is correct. Unless, of course, the credit card payer is a bad tipper. But t least they paid correctly!</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-41622167040934578732014-12-16T12:51:00.000-08:002014-12-16T12:51:55.646-08:00#65 "Happy Campers" In Color!!! June 27, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRTNSiB-ty78hb6Xzf-8s7d7XiYJHdG0FKM8uVSDltoXGGyxC20K8UC_6ZfxX-h5TeUMS5AM-YiKP-dyqIDfrsZPCuk1VMSTGIxxu0VARKyoy8jGQ194rZNGQnb4Gs4HZtJnqAaKEGmzk/s1600/Tim&Jeremy65.4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRTNSiB-ty78hb6Xzf-8s7d7XiYJHdG0FKM8uVSDltoXGGyxC20K8UC_6ZfxX-h5TeUMS5AM-YiKP-dyqIDfrsZPCuk1VMSTGIxxu0VARKyoy8jGQ194rZNGQnb4Gs4HZtJnqAaKEGmzk/s1600/Tim&Jeremy65.4.jpg" height="176" width="640" /></a></div>
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Oof. That last post stressed me out!</div>
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I was inspired to write a post in the style of a short story instead of a blog post, and for some dumb reason I decided to write about being in the weeds. Well, it was like I was reliving being in the weeds, and the customers were real! Even the guy who tugged on my apron was a real person and I can see his face now! Argh! That is one of the challenging things about this project: I am forced to think about work while not physically at work. One of my favorite parts about being a server and bartender is that when you leave the job, it doesn't go home with you. I don't ever have to work from home. If I am not at the restaurant, I don't have to serve people. It really is a great thing. However, with this project, a little bit of the restaurant is with me all the time here on my computer. I am sure I have mentioned that I rarely draw people I know on these pictures because I don't want to have to think about them when I am at home. Don't get me wrong, Tim and I have inadvertently drawn customers and friends on these drawings before and probably will again, I am just saying that I don't usually do it on purpose. I would feel bad if I drew someone I like on one of these drawings and then all of a sudden, the drawing progresses and that person that I like finds themselves in some crazy scene like the one pictured above. On the other hand, if we draw someone who we don't like very much or who is a difficult customer, then I have to see them, color them in, and make them fit into the crazy scene like the one featured above. That means that I have to spend time with them that I usually would not do. I try to avoid difficult customers. I do not want to hang out with them in my own home in my free time, and they probably feel the same way about me. </div>
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When we do get difficult regular customers at the restaurant, we usually will trade them out. For instance, if you are a problem customer for me, but Mike doesn't mind you, then you will usually have Mike as your server even if you are not sitting in Mike's section. The same goes with me. I will take Edie's problem customers and vice versa and on and on, amen. This makes the night better for everyone, including you. I mean, you don't think that you are a problem customer! You think that you are Cafe Loup's best regular and life of the party! But I am here to tell you that you are <i>someone's</i> problem customer. I think that I am probably someone's problem customer. I walk into a certain bar on a certain night with a certain someone behind the bar and they roll their eyes and say, "darn, that guy is back! Why can't he come in here on my night off?"</div>
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It's just part of life. You think you are a good person, a generous person, and a person who is liked by all people and babies and small animals. But you're not. Someone thinks you suck. And I think this happens a lot in restaurants because people who are problem customers don't know that they are being obnoxious a lot of the time. Sometimes it's the alcohol that makes them difficult. Maybe that one night they had a couple too many and started talking crazy to their server. Maybe they were just really hungry that one night and weren't in the mood to small talk and so they got a little snippy with the waitress. Well, whatever it was, your server remembers. </div>
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Being a server is a hard enough job as it is without difficult customers. When I have a full section, which is 12 tables with up to 36 people in my section AT THE SAME TIME, I do not have time to have difficult people. That is 36 people all needing something and all at different times, so I am trying to figure out the timing of getting 36 people one thing at a time. A lot of the time, I have half of those 36 people being regulars who know me, and see that if I do have a full section, they'll be more patient than usual. And yet, with 18 people on my side, all it takes to throw the whole night off is one problem customer. Since the job is all about timing, and making sure everything is landing in the right place, one person making crazy demands or keeping me at the table longer than necessary is a formula for throwing off the entire night. On the other hand, if I mess things up on my end, the same is true. There is a very delicate balance and if as little as one thing disrupts that balance, a good night can turn into a bad night in a matter of literal seconds. </div>
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That is why when you are a problem customer, your server will never forget you. There are people who have been coming to the restaurant for years whose face gives me a visceral reaction of dread and yet I can't even remember how they spited me. They may have done something 10 years ago, and yet, when I see them, I hand them over to Mike or Edie. Yet, even as I say that, I am looking down the pike at future T&J drawings and see more and more real life people making their way into the drawings. However, as you will see in future blog posts, the people who do make it into the drawings come with an interesting story. So, even though they might be awful, at least their story is interesting. Maybe it will be about YOU!</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-21551408169348943722014-12-16T10:27:00.000-08:002014-12-16T10:27:11.275-08:00#65 "Happy Campers" June 27, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The Weeds</div>
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The phone won't stop ringing. It's on the fourth ring when I get up from Table 33 and sprint across the dining room to grab the phone from behind the bar. As soon as I pick it up, I hear the dial tone and see Ardes has come from in the coat room and has already picked up the phone, taking another reservation. At this point, I have been interrupted too many times to rejoin Staff Meal, and decide I should get dressed and ready to be on the floor. After all, Tim has a nearly full bar, two Marbletops, and it's not even 5:30. I change and as I am coming out of the coat room tying my apron, a four top walks in "just for drinks." I put them on Table 15 and go to the waiter's station to get them water and to make myself a cup of coffee. Usually, I have some time in between Staff Meal and Service in which I can relax a little and have a cup of coffee while preparing for the evening. I can tell that this is not one of those nights. Tonight I am already in The Weeds.</div>
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I get Table 15 started with some water and two Beefeater manhattans straight up, one with olives the other with a twist and olives on the side, a pint of Anchor Steam and a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. I take over Table 5 and Table 6 from Tim. Table 6 is Barbara and a friend of hers, so that's good. She's a regular and always has the same thing, but even she pulls me aside and asks for an order of frites. I put that order in, and on my way out of the kitchen I see I have two more tables. I put some sugar in my coffee and set up 4 waters for Table 10 and 12 and as I am doing that, Karen sits down on 11. So, I pour her water and her wine and put all of the waters and wine on the tray and pass them out. Table 10 tells me they are going to the theater and in a hurry and are ready to order, so I stand there with the rest of the waters and Karens wine still on the tray and listen to them order a beet salad with the sauce on the side followed by the chicken but with frites instead of potatoes and just a soup for the lady. Oh, and also two Manhattans, one dry, one regular, both up and made with Canadian Club. I make a mental note and hand Karen her water and wine, dropping the remaining waters on Table 12. I write out the order for 10 since we don't have a computer POS system and put it in the kitchen, because when you're in The Weeds, the last thing you want to do is forget to order food. I go straight to the bar and get 15's drinks and grab menus for 11 and 12 (even though I don't think Karen really needs one) and drop the drinks on 15. At this point they tell me that they think that maybe they'll order some "small bites" so I drop the menus for them and rush back to the menu stand to get another 4 menus. At this point, Table One is being sat with another 4 Top and Liz and her friend have snuck into Table 2B. So, now I pick up another 4 menus to make 8 for 4 different tables and drop them on 12, 11, (one extra on 15) and 1. While I was doing that, I got the drink order from 12, a bottle of Cotes Du Rhone, and then go get Liz's Extra Sour Gray Goose Gimlet and her friends Pinot Grigio order and tell Table 1 that I will be right back to get their drink orders. I forgot about Barbara's frites so I race back into the kitchen and pick them up, wondering where the heck everyone else is, and being a little sad that our runner doesn't show up for another hour, and Table 10's soup and beets salad is also ready, so I pick up all three things and distribute them to Barbara first, and then soup and beets to Table 10. I stop to say "hi" to Karen and explain that I am already in The Weeds, so that I might be a little slow when the guy on position one at Table 15 actually grabs the back of my apron and tugs on it. I turn around to him as he says, "I think we're ready to order." My blood boils a bit when the girls at the table say something along the lines of, "Oh, we are? I haven't even looked yet!" and the tugger says something like, "I'll just order some small bites for the table." At which point he essentially lists off all of the items on the appetizer menu and takes a vote at the table until they have ordered 2 appetizers and an order of frites. During this time, Table 3, 4 and 16 have all been sat, and so I have a full section and it's barely 6:00.</div>
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Flash forward to a half an hour later. The runner has finally showed up, although my section is full and then rest of the restaurant is filling up fast. It's just one of those nights where The Weeds poke through the pavement at an extraordinary rate and there is nothing you can do to stop them. I knew it was going to happen as soon as I walked into the restaurant a little after 4:30. The book was packed and the phone just wouldn't quit. That's how you know. You can feel it from the frantic energy in an empty restaurant. Now here I am, two hours later without time to even drink my coffee which sits untouched on the waiter's station, cold and stale. I see it and down it in one gulp, picking up drinks at the same time and racing over to Table 6 to get Barbara her bill. At this point I pick up Barbara's Gold Card and run it through our credit card machine. American Express has extra security so I take the extra time that it takes to process the order to process my section. I start from the front:</div>
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Table 1: Ordered food, waiting for apps, have drinks</div>
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Table 2A: Still looking at wine list although most definitely ready to order</div>
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Table 2B: Liz and friend on Round 2 of drinks. Probably ready for more. And frites</div>
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Table 3: Having drinks and looking at menus</div>
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Table 4: Drinking (light weights) very slowly</div>
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Table 5: Still here from about 5 and essentially taking up space. "Camping"</div>
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Table 6: Waiting for me to give her this credit card which is processing extra slow</div>
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Table 10: Eating entrees, going to be early for the theater</div>
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Table 11: Karen, ordered burger with half a bun rare-medium rare with frites sauce</div>
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Table 12: Eating appetizers, drinking Cotes Du Rhone</div>
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Table 15: Waiting for more frites after the first order wasn't enough, need more drinks</div>
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Table 16: Pleasent enough people. Waiting for apps....</div>
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And with that, the credit card machine whirrs to life: </div>
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"Transaction Failed."</div>
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To Be Continued...</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-90616094549411554322014-12-10T07:22:00.000-08:002014-12-10T07:22:11.720-08:00#64 In Color!!! June 19, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When Tim and I started this project 5 years ago, we had no idea how far it would go. We were essentially just messing around, drawing pictures at work like we had been for years before that fateful day where we liked a picture enough to take it home and work on it outside of the restaurant. That first picture that I took home is pretty simple, but has all of the insanity of later drawings in it. Take a look at it <a href="http://timandjeremy.blogspot.com/2010/09/1-no-1-or-not-pictured-two-fags-fcking.html">here.</a><br />
Tim and I would draw on the Triple Dupe Pad nearly every day we were at the restaurant, always adding (and sometimes subtracting) to the whole thing. We would draw on them while we had our evening coffee before the rush, and then again at the end of the night while sitting on Table 8 drinking beers and talking about the evening that had just recently ended. As time went on, Tim and my schedule became less and less intertwined. We used to work three out of four days together, and so we were working on these drawings a lot during that time. As the years passed, our schedules changed so much that Tim and I only work together for a couple hours on Friday evenings when I come in to wait tables in the evening and he finishes up his shift as the dar bar tender. I am not sure if that fact of not working together has slowed down our output, but we have certainly slowed down the production of T&J drawings.<br />
I rarely draw these days during the pre-shift coffee break. This is usually because I am much better friends with the bar regulars now, and so instead of turning my back to them and drawing insane pictures of aliens harvesting heads, I catch up with them and visit. Then, at the end of the night, it's usually the same thing. Instead of the staff sitting on Table 8, like the old days, we all hang out at the bar and visit with our favorite regulars. It almost seems wrong to call these people regulars since a lot of them are friends who happened to be customers first. That is how I would describe these people to outsiders. Yes, we met in a server/served environment, but we have gone beyond that relationship and developed a full-on friendship. This happens sometimes in some restaurants and bars, but it happens at our place more, I think. The way the restaurant operates, and the longevity of the staff makes it the perfect place to become really good friends with the staff and regulars.<br />
For instance, years ago, a woman named Karen started coming in to eat. She would come in and sit at Table 11 or 12 (depending on which one was open at the time). She would read on her Kindle and have a glass of wine and eat a little something. Well, after a couple of times waiting on her, I asked how she liked the Kindle (they were new at the time), and from that question on, we became friends. She would come in every Wednesday and Friday for years and years. We became Bookface friends, and we would talk for hours about everything from technology to the Opera and everything in between. Now, you are probably thinking, well, obviously a young waiter and a single woman becoming friends in a restaurant is nothing out of the ordinary. That sort of thing happens every day. The only difference is that Karen and I are completely different people from completely different times. She could be an aunt of mine or some distant relative that would be a peer of my parents. But, because of the restaurant, we are now friends. In the outside world that never would have happened, but in the restaurant it happens all the time. The fact that I have so many friends my parents age and older is directly related to working at the restaurant. And so, I guess it is a little sad that the T&J production has gone down but the reason for the slowdown is a positive thing. I mean, friendship is more important that productivity any day of the week.</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-10427525172265137952014-12-09T11:43:00.000-08:002014-12-09T11:43:42.107-08:00#64 June 19, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One of my favorite parts about this one was making the ant farm. It seems to help this giant machine devised by large-brained aliens run well. Although maybe it is really just cosmetic. Regardless, I enjoyed drawing it, and I am not sure I had ever drawn one before. It's funny how there are some things that you never draw even though they are part of your history. When I was a kid, we had an ant farm. I am pretty sure we were inspired to get one by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MMOSWltxU4">Raul's Wild Kingdom</a> on the classic Weird "Al" movie, "UHF." Whatever the inspiration, my brother and I thought it would be a cool thing to have an ant farm. So, we went to the mall, and picked one up from Kay-bee toys or from the Nature store. You don't get ants at the store, which I initially thought was a little weird, but these kits are all sealed up so there's no way the ants would be able to survive on the shelf for so many weeks/months/years, so instead you had to send away for the ants. The company who makes the farms will then send you live ants through the mail. At this time in my life, I was living in Syracuse, New York, and anyone who has been to Syracuse, knows that it is cold there pretty much 10 months out of the year. So, when we finally got our ants from the <i>real </i>farm/factory, they were frozen solid and dead. It's crazy to think back on that, only because I am remembering them all frozen and dead, but also packaged in a test tube, essentially. So, my brother and I are looking at all these dead ants in a frozen tube and we are obviously pretty bummed out because we want to see these ants dig! Right? That's why you get the ant farm in the first place, because you can't believe that they will actually be able to do the digging (even though your whole life you've seen ants doing just fine on their own). So we sent back the frozen ants, and soon enough we had ants in a tube that were totally alive! We put them in the green plastic farm that was three-quarters filled with white sand, and watched to see if they would really dig. And weren't we pretty excited when they did! Wow, those ants really digging tunnels! Minutes of fun!<br />
We had the ant farm for about as long as the average kid has an ant farm, which is to say, until the first batch of ants dies. Once they were in there and working away, the whole novelty of thing had worn off. Don't get me wrong, the inventors of the ant farm are geniuses. Whoever can make money by mailing bugs to suburban homes for 50 years is pretty smart. Not to mention, the simple design of the thing is pretty amazing. It's no more than a couple inches deep, and about the size of an 11 x 14 poster that is a self contained, living picture. The more I write about it here as an object, the more I want to get one again, but in my adult life. I think I want one just to see if I could take better care of the ants now that I am a relatively normal, functioning adult. Or, would the ants grow to be a finite age and die, but not cannibalize each other. Because, that was one of my questions then, as it is now. What happens to the remains of the ants when they die? I doubt the ants bury one another, so where do the corpses go? Also, since there is no queen sold with the set, how does one continue the colony except by introducing new ants into the existing farm?<br />
Luckily for me, there are still thousands of people buying and selling ant farms. In fact, NASA developed a new gel as a sand substitute which also contains nutrients for the ants, so they could be observed in zero-gravity. All of the questions I have just asked have been answered by <a href="http://ant-farm-stores-review.toptenreviews.com/what-you-need-to-know-about-ant-farms.html">the internet</a>. That is a great thing about writing these blog posts. While I am writing, I have some pretty random stories that send me down strange rabbit holes of internet. This post is a perfect example of this; I would never look up ant farms or be interested in getting one, but since I was going down memory lane, it just kind of happened. Now I know NASA is interested in ant farms and their history goes back to 1900's era France. Yes, this knowledge is all but useless, but it might make for some interesting conversations at the bar tomorrow.</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-5485777005675320742014-12-01T12:40:00.000-08:002014-12-01T12:40:43.000-08:00#63 "Highway 61, Re-twisted." in color? June 12, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When I was a kid I was really scared of horror movies. I couldn't watch them and my mom would not allow me to watch them because I would have bad dreams about them for weeks. But there was this one stretch of time when me and my boy Greg Prescott would sit down in his basement and watch all the classic horror movies on afternoon t.v.; Dracula, Frankenstein, The Wolfman, The Creature From the Black Lagoon and so on. I think I was able to watch those ones without being completely scared senseless because they were in black and white and so they were removed from reality enough for me to stomach it. I have not re-watched any of those movies since that time in Greg's basement and I doubt I will watch them again. It is because I am very peculiar when it comes to black and white movies. I realize that there are true classics, and arguably the greatest movies of all time, all shot in black and white, but I find them to be less powerful than movies in color. I think it has something to do with the extra step away from reality, but I also don't like the way the actors in black and white movies act.<br />
I understand that this view is broad and that there are exceptions to the rule, but I am speaking here in generalizations. I find that the actors are overacting and speak with an unbelievable affected accent. I can't imagine that is how people actually talked. However, there is one woman who comes into the restaurant who might just prove me wrong. Her name is Sheila and she must be 85 years old, minimum. She is amazing. Sheila comes in every Sunday after going to, fittingly, the movies. She wears a hat with a hat pin and always has a Dewar's on the rocks in a stem glass and then a light dinner with some Sauvignon Blanc. She is a dear old lady and is always going to see weird movies. I want to write a spin-off blog called "What did Sheila Watch This Week?" and have it just be a list of all the things Sheila watched. We've gotten to the point where we ask her what she watched and her opinion on it. For instance, she went to see "22" a couple months ago, only because she had never heard of it and thought it might be interesting. She had no idea she was in for Jonah Hill and Tatum Channing putzing around for an hour and a half. So we asked her what she thought of it, and naturally she said, "It was awful!" Now we are getting to the part where Sheila just might convince me that people talked weird back in the early days of film. Sheila has a way of speaking that very few people possess today and can really only be explained by harkening back to old films. She might be from England, giving her an undistinguishable English accent. Or maybe it's not an English accent, but upper crust American accent, which I am guessing was once an upper crust English accent that has been passed down a couple generations in America. To give you an example, you'll have to use your imagination and speak out loud, so if you are in a coffee shop or other public place, you might get some weird looks, but it'll be worth it. One day, Sheila beckoned Tim over to her table. He bent down to hear what she had to say, and with a big grin on her face, she said the following. This is where you have to speak out loud, as an 85+ year old woman with maybe an English accent. If you can't say it out loud, come by the restaurant and ask Tim and I to say it for you, it's one of our favorite sayings. So, ok, back to what she said. She leans in and says to Tim, "You know that waiter that I don't like? He touched my hat! Can you believe that?" I am laughing just typing that, but I am also laughing picturing all 8 of you devoted readers saying this out loud in your homes and/or offices. The point is, Sheila is the closest I have ever come to believing that people in old movies weren't just making up some accent because of a cycle perpetrated by the movies themselves.<br />
I am no linguist, and so this theory is all assumption, and I would gladly listen to how I am completely wrong I am and learn the real reason that movie stars of yore talk in this slightly affected language. And I am only talking about white actors. Don't even get me started about black people being portrayed in black and white films.<br />
Instead, I will just say that this drawing was a fun exercise in coloring in a monochrome palette on the computer. I had never colored a drawing in with a monochrome palette in Photoshop before. On the one hand I liked it because it made my job a lot easier because I didn't have to think about what color was going to look good where. This one also took significantly less time to color than the one that are "in color." Those ones take me an average of 6 hours to color, especially these days when the color is very detailed. This one took less time than that, although it was still pretty time consuming. It remains the only T&J colored in "black & white" so it will always stand out because of that. I think Greg Prescott would approve.<br />
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Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-60846015243991434072014-12-01T10:54:00.003-08:002014-12-01T10:54:55.293-08:00#63 "Highway 61, Retwisted." June 12, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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You hear about haunted houses and buildings all the time in New York. There are even ghost tours that you can pay money to have people show you various spots in the city where there are tales of hauntings. Since this city is huge and it's history goes all the way back to the time before white people, you are guaranteed to be standing or working on the exact spot where someone or something was killed. Actually, if you think about it, every square inch of the earth is littered with the remains of something that was once alive, but that is a different, more complex story that I will get into at another time.<br />
I have never seen anyone die in the restaurant, although I have seen people very close to dying and having to be taken out of the restaurant by the EMTs. It's always a scary thing to witness, but it's a thing that happens when you work in a place that is always open for the public to use. People die every day in all kinds of strange manners. Most of the time these people are not planning on dying that day, and so it's a surprise to them and the ones who are around them. Many years ago, I was working in the front of the restaurant and a young lady came in with her father and mother, which is a extremely common theme. But this night, things would end up being somewhat less than common. They had essentially just sat down at the table when I went over to get drink orders from them. As I approached, the young lady started screaming at me to call 9-11. Her father was having trouble breathing, and one look at him and I knew that, yes indeed, I should be calling 9-11. He looked awful; pale white skin with green undertones, an 1,000 yard stare in his eyes and barely breathing at all. It scared the crap out of me, so I took out my cell phone and dialed 9-11 for the first time in my life. I told the operator where we were and what was happening and to send an ambulance right away, and that was that; or so I thought. I went over to the manager to tell him that I had called and instead of being happy about it and saying that was a responsible thing to have done, he started screaming at me! He told me that I was under no circumstances to call 9-11, that it was <i>his</i> job to call 9-11. He said that he had already called when he overheard the young lady and my conversation and now he was yelling at me because the city was now probably sending over two ambulances. I know that sounds crazy, because it was. This manager from back then was crazy. He didn't like me very much and would use any excuse to yell at and berate me. I used to think all restaurant managers were insane and there was a special place in hell for them. No doubt I have talked about that at some point on this blog. I have since changed my tune a little bit, but now I have only upgraded it into the belief that restaurant managers are doomed to live out eternity managing restaurants in some strange purgatory-like restaurant that is always open.<br />
So, anyway. One ambulance showed up and took the father away in a stretcher and out of the restaurant for the evening. I don't know if he died or not. He may have lived and is still a customer at the restaurant to this day. I did not know those people, so I wouldn't be able to remember them today. Since that surreal first time, I have seen the EMTs in the restaurant a handful of times. Every time I can remember, the person who needs them leaves the restaurant with full consciousness, thankfully. However, before the restaurant was in that location, there was a bar in it's place before it. Who knows how many people died there? And the fact that there are 100 apartments above the restaurant almost guarantees human death on that exact location at some point in time. All of this begs the question, where are all the ghosts?<br />
I have closed that place up hundreds of times over the years and have never seen a ghost. How could this be possible? Yes, I have been a little freaked out on occasions very late at night when I am the only one in the whole place and there's no music and no sound. But even then, I am more freaked out about being robbed than about being scared by a ghost. Although now that I know restaurant managers are perpetually managing restaurants for eternity in the hereafter, I guess I should keep my guard up a little. After all, one our most evil managers died in mysterious circumstances about 5 years ago, so he may be haunting the establishment and I have merely not noticed. He's probably haunting a club though, now that I think of it. If I do end up seeing his ghost, I will certainly tell the NYC Ghost Tour people about it. This way we can diversify our clientele by adding occult members and finally get to the bottom of this haunted house thing. Because I really just want to know about the place across the street that I believe was built on an indian burial ground. But that, too, is a different story.</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-52727952918616573222014-11-25T09:21:00.000-08:002014-11-25T09:21:47.624-08:00#62 "Blue Shirt, Period." In Color!!! June 6, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Picasso's Blue Period only lasted for 3 years, but the name will live on forever. It is said that he was severely depressed at this time, as his friend had just committed suicide. His subject matter turned to the fringe members of society; beggars, prostitutes, and thieves. At the time, the paintings were not well received by the public or by Picasso's own art dealers, although now they are some of his most popular works and the name itself is synonymous with "the brooding artist." I'm sure every artist goes through a "blue period" of some sort, even though the artist might not be actually painting in blue. In Tim and my case, I doubt this could be considered our blue period, but when I posted it to Bookface, I did mention that we were now entering our blue period. I was merely making a joke about this two-headed artist's choice of palette for his little masterpiece (that and the heavy use of the color blue throughout the picture). On top of that, the title of this drawing is a play on the uniform we wear at the restaurant. When I first started, the uniform was a blue, button down shirt with a tie of your choice, jeans, and a bistro apron. For the most part, the uniform has stayed the same, but we do have a couple people on the staff now that have taken some creative liberties. Phillip tends to wear a lot of color and a lot of patterns both on his shirts and on his conservatively wild ties. He has real style though and his shirts are always pressed so he can get away with it. I still maintain the original "uniform" most of the time unless I am behind the bar, although Dien has been wearing wild shirts behind the bar for nearly 20 years. There are waiters in this picture, although they must not work with us as they have some crazy attire.<br />
It's hard for me to pinpoint when Tim and I had a "Blue Period," if we have had one at all. The thing about an on-going project like this one is that a lot of the work is done at such different times and over the course of so many days that there is probably blue period aspects in many of the drawings. But, since there is other "periods" in the same picture, you can't tell the difference. Also, 2013 was an incredibly productive year for me and the whole "Mind on Loup" series. Since I had essentially taken 2012 off to work on children's books, 2013 saw a huge increase in production in the "Mind on Loup" drawings. Not that we were drawing them faster, it's just I had a ton backed up from 2012 and colored them in at a furious pace. In fact, I put out about 30 colored versions in 2013, so that marked the most productive year ever. To put that into perspective, this year I have only put out 18 and the 3 years before that I put out 52 combined. It's a lot of numbers, I know, and I will stop with all this math. The long story short is that the Blue Period for the "Mind on Loup" series is impossible to trace. I'm sure Tim could show you some of his drawings from a low point in his life, and I could certainly show you some pictures that I drew while depressed, but they would probably be on different pictures in different time periods. Also, since the drawings remained uncolored for sometimes almost 2 years, the original drawing and the colored version would have almost nothing in common as far as mood is concerned. I may have been depressed while drawing the purple cloud or the orange mechanical fish(?) but by the time I got around to coloring it, I am not even sure I remember what the thing is that I am coloring.<br />
In a lot of these drawings I can remember drawing the subjects and I can remember specific events surrounding the drawings. This is not one of them. The only thing I vaguely remember about drawing this one is the thing on the far right-hand side, because Edie could not believe it and questioned me tirelessly about what it was. Even then I had no real answer. Now, looking at this drawing, I could not tell you without the help of my records when it was originally drawn. Anytime between now and 2011 would be my guess, although I kind of know that it was much closer to the latter. Not that any of that matters. I think that once this project runs it's course there will be good ones and bad ones and ones that are just part of the project. I think this one will be the one that will symbolize our "Blue Period." Why not, right? If we really did have a blue period, why not have it be this one? This one will be the stand-in for our depressed, brooding period where all we worked in was blue ball-point pens on blue tinged Triple-Dupe pads whilst drawing pictures of Smurfs, blue prostitutes wearing Craz-berry Ring Pops and only listening to the artist Blu.</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-13129231565473749992014-11-25T08:09:00.000-08:002014-11-25T08:09:02.019-08:00#62 "Blue Shirt, Period." June 6, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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New York City certainly has it's share of pests.<br />
They say that the rat population in New York is 8 million, meaning one rat for every person who lives here. I like that idea and I will continue to spread that myth even though there seems to be a <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2014/11/06/nyregion/8-million-rats-in-new-york-data-suggest-that-legend-is-flawed.html?_r=0">much smaller number</a> of rats living here. But, like anyone who has grown up with cartoons on the mind, the idea that there is one rat for every person makes for a great cartoon idea. I like the idea that there is a "rat Tim" and a "rat Jeremy" and so on and on until every person has a rat doppelganger. Like in the movie, "Ratatouille" the rats are having their own lives and going about it in a parallel miniature New York right under our feet. Some of the rats wear glasses, some of them have funny haircuts and tattoos. Sometimes they get into KFC and run around for the camera crews that show it on the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=su0U37w2tws">news</a>.<br />
Thankfully, we have never had any rats in the restaurant. We've had other things, but never rats, thank goodness. As long as I have worked there, we have had cats. The first one was old when I got there, and though he was very loved by the staff and the late-night patrons, he wasn't very good at his job. Namely, catching mice. Now, before I go on, I just want the light-hearted readers to know that mice are a part of living in a big city. They live outdoors, but like any warm blooded creature, they like being warm more than being cold, so if they get the opportunity to be inside, the are going to take that opportunity. Sometimes, this means that they will live inside a huge building complex with multiple underground entrances that houses over 100 apartments, multiple restaurants and other businesses. So when you are in a New York City restaurant, remember that there has been, or currently is, an active pest presence. So anyway, this cat was pretty old and didn't have the will to hunt anymore. I resented him for that and I would always tell him to do his job and get rid of these little dudes. Well, he never listened to me and soon he died.<br />
We replaced him with a brother and sister duo by the names of Coco and Felix. Coco was the star, and Felix was the workman. Coco would come upstairs at 10 or 11 and lounge on the bar liked she owned the place, which she kind of did since she was a "child" of the actual owners. We would put out plates of ice and she would lick the ice and the people at the bar would go gaga over her. Felix would hang back in the basement until everyone was gone and then he would do the patrol. This was the case for years and years until the NYC Health Department started cracking down on all furry residents and started giving out grades. Before the grading system, it was just pass/fail. Now they grade you. It's a racket though, as it is just another way for the city to squeeze money out of it's business operators since you can essentially pay your way to an A. When this system was first put into place, you might remember, the restaurant got a "C." I talk about it a little more extensively in <a href="http://timandjeremy.blogspot.com/2013/01/feeding-man-machine-in-color-june-16.html">this post</a> from a couple years ago. Well, the cats got kicked out and we ended up getting an "A," but then we had mice. And those mice were brave. They didn't care about business hours or waiting until everyone had left the place to start foraging for the occasional french fry. No, they came out all the time. It was crazy. For a year or so, we had a really big problem with the pests. That was, until we finally had Felix come back to live there again. Now we have our friendly little buddy back with us and are once again pest free. We even maintained our "A."<br />
I guess I started talking about pests since this one has some sort of bug being gassed while an evil <a href="http://mibblio.com/mibblets/wibblesmacks">Wibblesmack</a> looks on laughing. I realize that this image might not even be the focal point of this piece, but I feel sometimes with these sprawling drawings, I have to pick one thing to discuss, since finding symbolism in a piece like this is usually difficult at best. I think some of them have overall themes, but this is one of the pieces that is a bit more abstract. I realize that sometimes these can hit you over the head with the themes, but this one is more like lightly patting you on the shin. Or brushing up against your rat doppelganger's tail.</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-23522489622307088572014-11-13T10:24:00.002-08:002014-11-13T10:24:57.485-08:00#61 "Richard of XIII Street" In Color! May 30, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Coloring this one was very satisfying. I got to really bring out Tim's welt, bring out the insanity in Richard, and costume all of the super heros. Although I am almost most proud of the scaffolding behind Richard and the wall behind that. If I told you that this was a picture of 13th St. any time between now and 2010, you would say, "Of course it is, there's the scaffolding." As anyone who frequents the street knows, there is scaffolding there all the time. At the time of this drawing, there had been scaffolding around our building on the corner for years. They were replacing the windows or something. Then, when those were taken down, they did the same thing to the building across the street so up went the scaffolding for another couple of years. I am not exaggerating when I tell you these are up for <i>years</i>. In fact, people would come into the restaurant when the scaffolding went up and would express their shock and concern for the place. Because, you see, 13th street in the past 15 years has been almost constantly under construction. The fact that the restaurant has survived through this constant work zone is a testament to the owners and the regulars who frequent the place. Without hard work from the staff and the loyal patronage from the neighborhood regulars, this place would've folded like so many uptown places that can't survive the constant construction (yes, I am talking about those poor guys stuck in the way of the forthcoming 2nd avenue subway line).<br />
When I first started, there was an awning like the kind you see uptown; it stretched from the building all the way to the edge of the sidewalk. You could fit ten smokers under there if it was raining, and it looked grand and inviting. That was replaced with the one that hangs there today during the first round of construction. That was when the MTA was putting in ventilation fans for the New Jersey Path train that has a station underneath 13th Street and 6th Avenue. The underground system is massive and so although the train station itself is across the street on the opposite side of 6th, the underground network stretches far beyond that. In fact, during the blackout in 2003, I saw angry commuters being shepherded out of a hatch on the corner of 13th, a block from where they usually emerge. Anyway, the construction of the ventilation fans was the longest and most detrimental to the restaurant. The whole sidewalk was ripped up and the north side of the street was essentially closed, which meant that any new customers were not going to be walking on that side of the street and thus not coming into the restaurant. The owners had to refinance their apartment to keep the place afloat, and were even interviewed for the <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2006/04/02/nyregion/thecity/02dig.html">NY Times</a>. We survived that storm, and soon the fans were up and working (to the dismay of unwitting women with loosely fitting skirts who sometimes find themselves in "Marilyn Monroe on the vent" situations).<br />
The next project started not too long after that, with the building in which the restaurant resides deciding to tear up the whole sidewalk in front of the place so they could replace the marble facade along the base of the building. So now there was no sidewalk again and a wooden plank leading up the the restaurant. I was still a smoker in those days and would smoke in the little pits on either side of the plank. People would come in and ask what was happening out there and our go-to response was that we were putting in a pool, so just wait until summer! The truth, of course, was way more mundane, but the people who were asking usually were the same ones who had been coming in during the ventilation fan debacle so they were essentially in on the joke. Or, they were at least sympathetic about the whole thing. This lasted a year or so, and then they had to replace the windows, so for almost a decade, the restaurant was blocked from the street by some sort of construction. When the scaffolding went up, Phillip would joke about putting problem customers on "The Deck." That would have been great, although they probably would have liked it so much that we would have to take calls for years with the person on the other end saying, "Can we have a table on the deck... what do you mean you don't have a deck? I remember you having one... I am a regular there and I know you have a deck.... Can I talk to Floyd?"<br />
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P.S. There is currently scaffolding up in front of the restaurant because part of the parking garage next door fell off onto the sidewalk. So, expect to see some scaffolding next time you're on 13th Street (it'll no doubt be the same purple hue as pictured above:).</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-7337241363587883422014-11-06T10:01:00.000-08:002014-11-06T10:01:17.490-08:00#61 "Richard of XIII Street" May 30, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Working in the Village in New York City puts you in pretty close contact with all walks of life. You come across the salt of the earth as well as the pepper. I have seen and heard things that most people couldn't dream up, and this picture is about one of those instances. This story happened to Tim and I sometime in the fall of 2011, I am guessing, based on the date that I scanned this picture into the computer (that date is January 18, 2012. That means it took me a year and a half to color it in. Looking at the timeline of these drawings sometimes makes me think about the years that people would spend on one painting. I never understood that until now). So, Tim and I were standing outside of the Loup and Tim was complaining. He had this thing on his hand, a swollen, red bump that may have been a spider bite or a rash of some sort, but it was painful and itchy. As we are discussing this, a man walks right up us and says, "what's the problem?" To this, Tim shows the guy his hand and the guy whips out a <i>switchblade </i>and says, "I could lance it right now!" To which, Tim and I backed off and said something along the lines of, "Whoawhatareyoudoingdudeputthatknifeaway." The guy chuckled and said he was just kidding and that he just wanted to use the bathroom. We let him in the restaurant because we were a little shell shocked and maybe thought we didn't have a choice. This guy only looked a little homeless and the stunt with the knife had caught us off guard. Well, we were laughing about the whole thing, and then we thought, "Oh no, this guy is probably robbing the place, and we let him in!" so we look through the window, and see him coming out, so Tim decides to retaliate with a joke of his own. As the guy is coming out the door, Tim pretends to rob him! We all laugh and the dude starts telling us a story. His story goes like this: His name is Richard and he lives in the neighborhood. He's been carrying the switchblade on him for 30 years, since back when the neighborhood was a little dicier than it is today. Back then he thought he needed a little extra protection, and then when his kids were born, he thought they might need a little extra protection. I realize that there are people out there that believe they have to be armed to walk around the city, but I had never been confronted like that. I have been jumped, but those dudes were just kids without weapons, and sure they made me bleed, but the incident didn't make me think I needed to arm myself to walk around the city. So, we hear all of this talk from this dude, and then we invite him in for a drink. He says he'll come back another time, and as we are exchanging our farewells, he leans over to Tim and says, "Oh, and your hand? That'll clear right up tomorrow." And you know what? It did!</div>
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Well, I was amped after that whole thing. I went right inside and broke out this triple dupe pad. It already had that Batman rip-off guy on it, so I thought Richard would be a good foil to that. If the Batman character was Good, then Richard would be Evil or vice versa. I think I got his likeness pretty spot-on, from his shit-eating grin to the army surplus jacket. The only thing I did wrong is he is holding his knife backwards, the lock should be on the top. My favorite part about the drawing is the Tim character whose hand is all swollen up and Richard is about to lance it. Tim drew the face of "himself" earlier, and I merely added the arm and body. It worked out perfectly. The rest of that drawing filled itself in pretty steadily over the course of a month or so, until I finished it up in mid January, 2012. We never did see Richard again. Maybe he cut his hair or trimmed his beard. Maybe he was really just a well-maintained homeless guy. Maybe he moved. Or, probably, he was just one of the 12 million people that cross your path every day in this city. Only, this one time, he stopped to talk and give us a little scare with a switchblade. </div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1924978770902459164.post-62731360029251454742014-11-06T09:02:00.000-08:002014-11-06T09:02:39.358-08:00#60 "The Last Days on Krypton" In Color!!! May 22, 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I like Superman just as much as the next guy.<br />
When I was a kid, Superman starring Christopher Reeves was one of those rainy, summer day movies. My cousins and siblings would all gather in the lower deck of the Lighthouse Inn and watch it on this huge television that my grandfather had found somewhere. The television itself was quite a contraption; a large screen with three lights, red, green, and blue, projecting onto a mirror and then onto the screen to create the image. As kids, we would walk in front of the lights and look at them dancing around the screen, while also blocking the view from our friends. The VCR was equally amazing, a top loader that seemed to be as big as a stereo. We would all gather around that television on rainy days and watch either Superman, The Never Ending Story, or Mary Poppins. Those were the most popular, although there were probably a lot more that I can't remember or didn't make such an impact on me. Superman was a crazy movie. In the first scene, Lois Lane almost dies when her helicopter falls off a skyscraper, but is saved at the last second by Superman. It's a pretty intense movie from then on. Superman almost dies in a pool but is saved by Lex Luthor's kind hearted friend. Then, at the end, Lois <i>does </i>die, but Superman reverses time and she comes back to life, and they are able to make Superman 2, 3 and 4. I never even saw Superman 3 or 4. I stopped at 2, but I hardly remember that one at all. The only reason Superman sticks with me is because I saw it so many times in the lower deck when I was very young. I don't think about it that much, in fact, Superman isn't even my favorite. I eventually started liking Batman, and read the comic a lot when I was a kid. Then all those movies came out in the 90's, so I felt more akin to growing up with Batman than with Superman. Don't get me wrong, if I was going to be either one of those dudes, I think Superman would be way cooler, even though you would then have to be a lonely alien. However, Batman movies were super popular when I was just becoming a teenager, so they were the perfect vehicle to drive me to the mall without parental supervision. Revisiting these movies is interesting, just because they haven't really aged well. I watched Batman with Michael Keaton recently, and it's pretty bad. I think it's because I don't believe Keaton plays Batman very well. Sure, Keaton was on the top of his game when that movie came out, but it's just not that believable to me. Not after we've seen Christian Bale in all of Christopher Nolan's Batman series. Jack Nicholson's performance is still pretty iconic, but the 90's Batman franchise went south pretty fast. I haven't re-watched Superman in a very long time, so I wonder if I would feel the same way about the movie not withstanding the test of time.<br />
Anyway, I thought that the two-headed couple on the left side of this drawing looked like Kryptonians even when I drew them. They kind of look like Superman's mom and dad, more-so the dad. So, with them as the main subjects, then the rest of the narrative can play out; it does look like the last days of Krypton. Obviously, no one could have witnessed the final days of Krypton since the lone survivor of the planet's demise is Superman himself, and he was just a baby when Krypton exploded. So things on that planet just might have looked like this. They even had an English language sign at their disposal. Strange, but anything is possible in an infinite universe. This one is a bit more abstract than a lot of T&J drawings. Sure, there are a lot of faces, but most of them are disjointed from any bodies. That could also bring up the whole "brain in a jar" theory, like the one posed on the movie, The Matrix. But no, let's stay in one universe for now, we shouldn't get too ahead of ourselves.</div>
Tim and Jeremy's Mind on Louphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01703137422432949774noreply@blogger.com0