See Ya at the Rock Concert

This piece made me miss Tim Taylor all over. Tim and I had been friends since 1986, since both of our senior years of high school in Dayton, Ohio. We saw each other throughout college, mostly in Cincinnati, and when Brainiac began touring in the mid-90s, they stayed with me a couple times in San Francisco. I remember one great show, when they played with Jesus Lizard and Girls Against Boys at Slim's. What a fantastic triple bill that was. Michelle Bodine was in the band at that point, (later of the now-defunct Shesus), and spent most of the night at my house trying to get David Sims of Jesus Lizard to stop his incessant hitting on her.

Fast forward to another episode in 1995 - In Amsterdam, walking up to an elevator in our hotel with Shellie. We see a guy standing by the elevator, and I say to Shellie "Wow, that guy looks like Tim Taylor." Lo and behold, it WAS Timmy Taylor. In our hotel, all of us far from Ohio, Brainiac touring with as a support act to the Amps. Tim just grinned at Shellie and I, and said "Hi girls. Are you coming to our rock concert?" None of us ever got over the world-is-a-very-small-place quality of that encounter.

And then two years later - I had since moved to New York, and Brainiac had tons of buzz surrounding them. Rumors were flying that spring of who they were signing with and when. Through various friends, I heard how Elektra was wooing them heavily. I turn around from the bar one night at the Lakeside Lounge, and bump smack into Tim. Neither of us are suprised to see each other, and again with the grin, "Hey Susan. What's happening?" Casual as ever, finally due to be signed to a major, brought to the bar in a limo, and still the same Tim.

Three weeks later, I'm in Dayton for Memorial Day, and I see the report of Tim's death at the age of 28 on the local news. He was the first friend my age I lost. Having to go to his memorial service was a heartbreak. Realizing that his life, good spirit, humor and talent was cut short was even worse.

My Favorite Hour of the Week

I'm almost embarrassed about how much I enjoy Rescue Me and continually go on about it, but there's simply no denying how much I look forward this fantastic show every week.

Produced and written by the brilliant Denis Leary, and Peter Tolan, his partner from their prime-time show "The Job" a couple years back, the razor-sharp writing of this show's second season on FX gets blacker, funnier and more emotionally charged with every episode. The real-life salty, witty, and often politically incorrect dialogue benefits from a 10pm cable slot that finds me laughing out loud or cringing in horror while replaying scenes several times.

Focusing on Leary's character, Tommy Gavin, and how his life has changed as a NYFD veteran in the two+ years after the events of 9/11, "Rescue Me" presents Gavin and his fellow firefighters as terrifically flawed human beings, who sometimes find themselves doing heroic things. This year's season finds Tommy trying to fake his way through quitting drinking; searching the country for his kids after his wife has fled with them; dealing with his father and unexpected new family members; and all the while he's receiving surreal visits from Jesus and his cousin/best friend who died on 9/11. Tommy's a guy you should hate with all his flaws, piggish and self-destructive ways. Yet Leary has come into his own as an actor, way beyond the ironic comedy routines he was once known for, by portraying Tommy as a guy who's just trying to survive, always almost cracking apart beneath the brash swagger.

Certainly firefighters shows have been done to death, but this is one that is leaps and bounds beyond what you are used to seeing on TV. The easy-on-the-eyes players (Dean Winters, Daniel Sunjata, Steven Pasquale) sure don't hurt it, either.

Tuesdays, 10pm on FX (Channel 58 in Brooklyn's Time Warner). First season available on DVD.

One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish...

New York Magazine is carrying a terrific article about the origins of fish in New York City. Where it comes from, how to get it, and why your fish will never be as good as Jack's Luxury Oyster Bar.

(Sure - this photo's from a Korean fish market. But a cool photo, no?)

Punk 4 Life

The BBC's Radio 1 recently broadcasted a show that covered the 20 most punk people. A couple questions: What is with the Brits continual obsession about Bill Hicks? And who's Eric Cantona?

I haven't called myself punk for about 20 yrs, so I don't know from punk, but how do people consider themselves PUNK almost 30 years later??

That said, I do love seeing kids with tons of attitude strut around Manhattan in black lipstick, torn shirts and combat boots. And I'd MUCH rather someone spout the punk ethos than take on the bizzaro-world Republican bent that some teenagers do today. Rebel already!

UPDATE: Eric Cantona = famous Man U soccer player

Here is New York

With so many questions running through my head this week, triggered by yet another impending departure of a dear friend from NYC, I couldn't have read a more appropriate essay than this 7,500 classic by E.B. White. Recommended to me by the always illuminating Signe, I'm a little surprised that it's never crossed my radar before.

Written in the summer of 1948, it contains some sharp insights consistent to this day. Fifty-five years later or no, the hassles and glorious rewards of New York never seem to change:

"Every facility is inadequate--the hospitals and schools and playgrounds are overcrowded, the express highways are feverish, the unimproved highways and bridges are bottlenecks; there is not enough air and not enough light, and there is usually too much heat or too little. But the city makes up for its hazards and deficiencies by supplying its citizens with massive doses of a supplementary vitamin--the sense of belonging to something unique, cosmopolitan, mighty and unparalleled."

Really nice stuff. And especially perfect for the recent days of reflection ("Now WHY do I live here again and WHY is this what I'm calling home when everything is a CONSTANT STRUGGLE???") that have popped up. Thanks for the reminder, Andy.

Close to Home:An American Album

I read this week about a exhibit that showed over the winter at the Getty Museums in LA of found photographs - you know, discarded old family photos found in thrift stores, on the street, tucked inside of a library book or whathaveyou. I've had to sift long and always impatiently through boxes of photos to find the elusive Grails of family photos. But when you get a good one -- man, what stories you can concoct in your brain about the people in the photo, and this one moment in their lives that was so important as to be recorded on film.

Here's links to the book and the exhibit (now closed)

Eatin' Out - AQ Cafe

58 Park Avenue at 38th Street
Open M-Sat, 10-5

Located inside Scandinavia House and operated by parent restaurant Aquavit, this open, bright, and sparsely-designed cafe has become one of my favorite places for lunch. Specializing in Swedish cuisine, lunch options range from a Grilled Scandinavian Shrimp sandwich ($8.75) to Swedish Meatballs ($9.50) to several salmon-based options. The Smorgasbord plate ($9.00) offers an assortment of 6 to 8 Scandinavian dishes that includes herring, gravlax and meatballs. All entrees and grilled sandwiches are served with a side of salad, bread and/or potato chips with a pungently memorable mayonnaise-based dip. Working my way through the menu over the past few months, I have yet to hit on a bad dish.

Although the wait to get your food can sometimes be up to 15 minutes (plates are made to order) it's great place to sit for an hour, read the paper and enjoy a unique yet not-too-expensive lunch.

The Best Belmont Ever

Or at least, the best Belmont I ever attended. As it was the first time in 4 years without the possibility of a Triple Crown winner (War Emblem, Funny Cide and Smarty Jones being the losers), the attendance was down and we found Belmont Day to be completely and gorgeously civilized. Sunny day, no lines at the windows, no lines for the LIRR trains, less yahoos, and the much trumpeted "no outside alcohol" policy new for 2005 was easily transgressed.

Seeing Afleet Alex dominate the rest of the admittedly weak 3-year-old field was a treat, too. After that travesty of a Derby, where Giacomo staggered to a win on what now seems to be sheer chance, I loved seeing a tough, deserving horse take the next two races of the Triple Crown. He's definitely the real deal, a powerhouse who will be exciting to watch into his four year old campaign next year. With the retirement of super horse Ghostzapper, Afleet Alex is the horse to watch as "the best" over the next few months.

As much as I want to see a Triple Crown winner in my lifetime, if it means crowds of 63,000 vs. crowds of 120,000, I am all for no horse ever doing it again. And ending our night in Irish bars in Woodside after sloshing out of the LIRR was an amusing finish to the day.

Thumbs up to the 2005 Belmont.

Start of Birthday Week

Decreed: Birthday week for everyone should begin the day before their birthday, and last through the following week. Also, one should also not have to work on the day their mother went into labor to bring their sorry ass into the world

Thus, MY birthday week begins today and will end on the 20th. Get in line for gift-giving and dinner outings pronto!!

Eatin' Out - Black Pearl

Back of Julep, 14 Ave A btw 1/2

Remember this: For $14.95, you can get a whole 1 1/4 pound lobster and perfectly crispy french fries. On Tuesdays only.

Black Pearl is a fish-shack style restaurant in the back of the divey bar Julep, on Ave A near the corner of Houston. Serving pan roasts, lobster rolls, ceviche, fried oysters, lobster pot pie, plus a variety of other fried-seafood-on-a-roll type entrees, the only thing I had eyes for the lobster special. It was just about perfect. Sit on the back patio on a warm day, get there in time for the 2 for 1 beer before 7:30, and think about how Montauk has nothing on the East Village.