I miss you, Edinburgh (part 4)

Saying goodbye to Edinburgh. At Waverley Station, 7 July 2012.

I miss you, Edinburgh (Part 3): On the Royal Mile

Old Town, the Castle, the the churches, the tourists, and, on cue, the bagpipes along the Royal Mile. It doesn't get much more Edinburgh than this.

I miss you, Edinburgh (Part 2): Ode to a Belisha Beacon

My British friends laugh at the fact that I'm kind of fascinated with this historical feature of the street in the UK and some Commonwealth countries--the Belisha Beacon. I don't know I am, but I am a tad obsessed. It seems somewhat exotic and elaborate--although entirely functional--to have this tall, stripey light at "zebra crossings" (i.e., crosswalks).

Plus you've got to admit that Belisha Beacon would make a great name for a British "female illusionist." That and Sunny Spells.

I miss you, Edinburgh (Part 1): At the céilidh

Filmed on my trip to Scotland, July 2012. How I wish I were there--even though I'd still sit out this dance.

Three from our electronic overlords

"Oblivion" by Grimes (released early 2012). I actually prefer "Genesis," but I couldn't find an official video for it. A bit precious? Maybe, but I still like her voice and overall sound.



Trip-hop lives! One of my favorite musical genres of the last two to three decades survives in the guise of French musician and DJ, Wax Tailor, here performing "Heart Stop" with vocalist Jennifer Charles



"Harvest Moon" by Poolside. No real video but such a gorgeous "daytime disco" (their words) sound. Denmark meets California. I believe this is the Neil Young song, actually, with Poolside's version bordering on sacrilege for some, but still, so lush and true to the spirit of the original.

And there my friends is your perfect end-of-summer soundtrack.

Ode to a non-greasy yearn

The smell of chicken in the air that night
The fryer alight
Oh Nando
They were frying hens for you and me
For fricassee
Oh Nando
Though there're pounds we'll never lose
There's no regret
If I had to eat chick-en again
I would eat yours my friend
Oh Nando

One of the discoveries on my recent trip to Great Britain was Nando's, a palace of Portuguese roast chicken in peri-peri sauce, which has something like 250+ locations in the UK. And it's been in the GB since 1992, so it's more than just a fluke, it's practically a way of life. This was my third trip since then, so why am I just discovering this now? <sotto voce> Vegetarian friends </sotto voce>.

I've had chicken and fish roasted Portuguese-style before--in Montreal of all places, which has a noteworthy Portuguese community along Rue Saint-Laurent north of Rue Sherbrooke. So this was more Portuguese roast chicken done for the "casual dining" crowd--but, nevertheless, done very well! (But, thankfully not, well done.)

There was also a Southern African influence in the cuisine, what with the rich "Southern style" (in that they reminded me of home) Luso beans and the fiery (for Great Britain) peri-peri marinades, common to Mozambique (a former Portuguese colonial territory) and South Africa, too, from whence Nando's got its start.

Nando's is global--there are even several locations in the Washington, D.C., area, although the closest to me is either in suburban Maryland or Toronto. Apparently, though, there are none in Montreal at this time, which is somewhat surprising because, calvaire, those Quebecois do love the roast chicken. (I'm looking at you, St. Hubert.)

What's my point in telling you all of this? Well, I wanted to show off my little homage to Nando's above (sung to the tune of ABBA's "Fernando," natch), which I recently composed for my dear friend Cali. And to remind you that our casual dining choices in the Pittsburgh area include Applebee's, TGIFriday's, and Eat 'n' Park.

Gah, sometimes how I hate you, life.

This at least makes me somewhat happy

It's like Scottish, English, and French weather all rolled into one.

Well, a boy can dream, can't he?

Maybe the only thing that will make me hate life less at this moment in time

Annie - I Know Ur Girlfriend Hates Me [New] by elpolemico

¡Ay! ¡Un gusano del oído!

I don't know why this song suddenly popped into my head this week, but it's been consistently there since at least Tuesday. Thus it's become my "gusano del oído" ("earworm" translated into Spanish . . . perhaps) du jour, de la semaine, au what-have-you.

This one takes me back . . . to San Antonio, actually, where I used to see this video on Telehit, the best music video channel there ever was, short of (or on par with) MTV US pre-1984. Yes, that good. Telehit is based in Mexico City, so it had at the time I watched it a real "chilango" vibe, exceedingly cool, trendy, and sophisticated, even though it was cranking out tunes and style for teens and tweens in an economically challenged, developing country.

Contrast that with MTV, except for maybe the first couple of years, which you would never know is broadcast from New York City. Its hipness has always been what the suburban kids think is stylin', which to me has always seemed unforgivably white bread, even when they're going all gangsta. It's almost as if MTV is ashamed to set an alternative tone for a horribly square country.

You certainly don't see that on TV in the UK, which so often seems very London in 'tude, for better or for worse. (I keep thinking of my recent date with Keith Lemon on BBC when I was in Scotland recently. Not likely to be the next Dancing with the Stars export, I am quite sure.) But here in the good ol' US of A, all we get is . . . a corporate California interpretation of sophistication, even when it's being channeled from Manhattan.

So, yeah, I am pissed off about being back home. How did you ever guess? My anguished wanderlust is high in the dark clouds of plaintiveness ready to throw myself over the next exquisite precipice of drama. Bring me Edelweiss! Please! (And major special pretzels if you get that reference. You've been reading liner notes!)

So much so that I'm daydreaming of my old life in "exotic" Texas, where it's no doubt 110 degrees in the shade (if you can find any), and they've just lethal injected another poor miscreant. Pretty pitiful when all that looks much more appealing than my so-called life in Pittsburgh.

"¡Gritar! ¿Quién? o ¿Cuál? Da igual, te juro da igual."

For those who like rain

And thunder and summer storms . . .

Je suis arrivé, j'ai vu, j'ai vaincu

Well, maybe not quite conquered, but you get the gist . . .

Here's part of the reason for the long silence: Paris. I'm hoping to make up for lost time in the coming weeks.

Enjoy!