whiskeyslowdown.com

Sean — Wed, 05 May 2010 09:44:00 -0700

Thanks for the room! (That's what the sign says)

Moving to Guatemala

Sean — Wed, 13 Apr 2005 10:47:00 -0700

Found this Beachside Hotel and Bar for Sale. I'll need Alex, Trent, and Patsie and a butload of Chinos.

What are they Whispering about?

Sean — Fri, 27 May 2005 09:14:00 -0700

Emily and Sarah keeping secrets

some woman asks to have her picture taken with Lauren

Sean — Fri, 27 May 2005 09:15:00 -0700

Feeling Silly

Sean — Thu, 02 Jun 2005 13:59:00 -0700

Wait, Something was said.

Everybody's working for the weekend!

Sean — Thu, 02 Jun 2005 14:11:00 -0700

Congratulations on the new job Lauren! We'll open the Glenlivet on the 17th! Until Then, keep your hands off.

Gaping Void

Sean — Wed, 15 Jun 2005 17:18:00 -0700

This is what I should of had printed on my card. Not cause its true or anything, just because its funny.

Anyhow, I was going to go by Acabelllo Salon for a hair cut today, but its in the wrong part of town. Instead I think I'll head over to town Hall for the trout, and then over to Mas Sake for the music. I do eat there occasionally, but its a better idea to eat before hand. That being said, Nic is doing a bang-up job over there, and her custom shrimp and crab roll is the best thing on the menu. But, like I said, its not even on the menu. BTW, what does it mean when someone asks for your email address,out of the blue, but then doesn't send you anything? And then later that day, they send you a blank text-message.

Flying home tommorrow to see what havoc my tenant has wreeked <sp?> on my condo. I'll probably spend the whole weekend moving CD's onto my Ipod. Wait, that's not true, I'm going to the fights on Friday, and celebrating Lauren's new job on saturday. She's got a new Apartment too, which reminds me of the late Mitch Hedburg's bit:

My apartment is infested with koala bears. It's the cutest infestation ever. Way better than cockroaches. When I turn on the light, a bunch of koala bears scatter, and I don't want them to! "Hey - hold on fellas! Let me hold one of you, and feed you a leaf." Koala bears are so cute, why do they have to be so far away from me? We need to ship a few over, so I can hold one, and pat it on its head.

Hills of GOld and mIles of poisen, times pulled me through

Sean — Fri, 02 Jun 2006 10:41:00 -0700

Gold, by Bill turner

Ow! Fascist!

Sean — Wed, 29 Jun 2005 10:10:00 -0700

Colleen says hi.

I had a Pimm’s and Ginger Beer at her Foreign Cinema bar before going over to Doc’s Clock to teach a Shuffle Board lesson. The board was closed because a band was setting up in the back. A five piece band whose name I never caught playing big band swing softly over tom waitts horns and percussion.

Which was mildly coincidental considering that I had sent out this WhiskeyTown referencing Doc Watson Lyric earlier in the day.

William Butler Yeats in jeans

Got up to play guitar and sing

In some joint in Mission Beach last night

At the door sat Tom Waits

In a pork pie hat and silver skates

Jugglin' three collection plates Jesus Christ

Townes Van Zandt standin' at the bar

Skinnin' a Hollywood movie star

Can't remember where he parked his car

Or to whom he lost the keys

Full of angst and hillbilly haiku

What's a poor Ft. Worth boy to do

Go on rhyme somethin' for em' man

Show him how you really feel

And then there I was in the mission listening to a horn section that used to play with ol’ Tom.

Bruno’s was my original target, but they are closed due to change of ownership. I think the fascists closed them down. Seriously. Literally. The night I saw “The People” play there was their last night. “The People”, despite theirr name, are a Che loving roots reggae band. Who’s more fascist than Che?

I don't know, I'm asking.

He's got good hands

Sean — Mon, 15 Aug 2005 11:42:00 -0700

Saturday day, I jumped rope for 45 minutes trying to master Double Unders. Over the yeas I had picked up the habit of alternating: Single, Double, Single Double. After 20 minutes I had worked it out. That’s enough rope talk.

Saturday evening I shot out of my hovel like a Aardvark, butt first and head low, but this time I turned east instead of west, dropping into North Beach.

No one told me that Impala took the old Black Cat and Blue Bar space. No one told me that the waitresses at Impala dressed like Doc Holliday’s wife, either. Well, the Sacred Heart meets old-Mexico-brothel design works when you’re sitting at the bar, and the enchiladas verde were tasty too. There was even football on above the bottle-capped tequila-Alter . Impressed, I walked downstairs and was not disappointed. I miss the Blue Bar, and Impala seems a bit forced, but it could all be worse. Take Jitney’s for instance.

On the way back I stopped into Sip for one. They had Sex in the City on: the one where she falls on the cat walk. It’s a classic. I was asleep by 12. (The jump rope talk was more exciting, I know)

Sunday I played an hour of Frisbee, an hour of Soccer, and an hour of Basket Ball. The basketball victory was most sweet (3 way 21 by ones, over a short asian, and black tennis player). My shoulder are in a perpetual clinch right now, dunno why. Got beamed in the eyebrow by the Frisbee. Let this be the historical record, cause if it goes black I’m telling people it’s a boxing accident.

Just now, I googled “The Kid”, as I am wont to do after I play Ultimate. I found the micky mouse picture of him over at Paxultimate.

And these Hippo Pictures!

I gotta freak I gotta flow I gotta throw my ass overboard baby don't you know

Sean — Wed, 28 Sep 2005 09:33:00 -0700

Yoga Gina has her own web site. Not Blog on it yet, but I'll talk to her about that.

The kind that comes in cans

Sean — Sun, 05 Feb 2006 14:14:00 -0800

Lauren went crazy with the camera at the Hold-Steady show. Then she threw that Can at the lead singer, cause he was "lagging".

Swearing at Motorists opened and was great.

Check out the photos, here

Excuse me, I seemed to have misplaced my congressional medal of honor

Sean — Mon, 13 Feb 2006 13:04:00 -0800

cheek·y P Pronunciation Key (chk)
adj. cheek·i·er, cheek·i·est

Impertinently bold; impudent and saucy.

cheeki·ly adv.
cheeki·ness n.

The Crossfit Seminar was an unmitigated success.

I got to play some hooverball, which is like Volleyball, but with a 20lb medicine ball. There were some cool presenters : Chuck Liddell''s Trainer, John Hackleman heaped praise on Crossfit. Mike Burgener, the USA Olympic Lifting Coach, lent his authorative voice to the Crossfit Cause. The southern styled Coach Rippetoe explained that sometimes lifters can't lift the weight because "its too heavy". He was my favorite.

During the beer and pizza social, Olympic Slalomist Eva. T., seemed unimpressed with my silver medal. She immediately questioned the credentials of the course, asking if it was rated by some fancy organization whose acronyms I can’t recall. Then she hastily retreated to the arms of Crossfit Greg.

And after that rustic imposition I took a deposition

Sean — Thu, 09 Mar 2006 11:17:00 -0800

After I wrote about Bix, I was in a good mood. I like writing Hard-Boiled stuff. My mood improved even more when I realized that my guy is a bit dumber than the only other hard-boiled characters I have read: Dennis Lehane’s Patrick Kenzie, who I wrote about a few days ago, and Nelson Demille’s John Corey, who I’ll get to in a minute.

I have never claimed to be all that original a writer, and Whiskey Sean Food Detective isn’t breaking any literary ground, but the style seemed to be my own. But then I remembered Calvin, of Calvin & Hobbes fame, who would occasionally assume the identity of Tracer Bullet, ace private investigator.

Nearest I can tell, Whiskey Sean is one half John Corey, and one half Tracer Bullet.

So who is John Corey? Pretty much the coolest cat in fiction.

Yesterday I picked up Nelson Demille’s NightFall, to wash away the aftertaste of the first chapter of another book I had just started. Here is a perfect little scene, where John, an Ex-New York Copy, is being confronted by a territorial FBI agent.

We both remained silent for a while and stared at each other. I love these macho-eyeballing contests, and I’m good at them.

Finally, he said, “Your wide, as she may have told you has never been fully satisfied with the final determination of this case.”

I didn’t reply.

He continued, “The Government is satisfied. She---and you--- work for the government.”

“Thanks for the hot tip.”

He looked at me and said, “Sometimes the obvious needs to be stated.”

“Is English you second language?”

…..

He added, “If you retired—or got fired---tomorrow, you could spend all the happy hours you want looking into this case. That would be your right as a private citizen, and if you found new evidence to reopen the government’s case, then God bless you. But as long as you work for the government, you will not, even in your off-duty hours, make and inquiries, conduct any interviews, look at any files, or even think about this case. Now, do you understand?”

I keep forgetting that nearly all special agents are lawyers. But when they speak, I remember. I said, “You’re making me curious. I hope that wasn’t your intent.”

You blend

Sean — Thu, 30 Mar 2006 15:10:00 -0800

The picture is of the car I want to buy and drive back to Atlanta. I’m not going to, but I am going to imagine I am for at least another two weeks. Trent found this Cadillac for me, but I told him it wasn’t my style. He says caddy’s are everyone’s style.

In hopes of taking some of SF with me, I just hit up Absinthe for the Ricotta Dumpling recipe. They gave me the high-hat instead. I am not going to quit so easily though. They did tell me that Rob, their maestro bartender from a couple years ago, is now selling wine in New York. His talents aren’t being completely wasted though, since he has written a Book on Cocktails that will be out in October. It’s to be published by Chronicle Books.

Rob, who I know from 5 months of pre-flight Thursday night drinks at Absinthe, is Bartender-at-large of this website. This book should be good.

One more thing about Absinthe: They really have the best hamburger in the world. The one they made me this afternoon was the best burger I have ever tasted. I know that sounds like Hyperbole but its not. I thought I was past surprise in this matter, but apparently I am not.

The Slowdown is one year old.

Sean — Wed, 05 Apr 2006 10:28:00 -0700

Here is a photo from Lauren Rose's Birthday Party.

big softy

Sean — Thu, 06 Apr 2006 20:55:00 -0700

big softy

you better learn how to steer

Sean — Tue, 16 May 2006 10:34:00 -0700

Little Sean on Dad's Cabin Cruiser, which I later crashed into a sail boat.

Nimrod's son

Sean — Sun, 11 Jun 2006 17:23:00 -0700

Down with DTP

Sean — Sat, 01 Jul 2006 07:57:00 -0700

Why does everyone keep asking me if I am a producer?

Sean — Thu, 17 Aug 2006 08:00:00 -0700

and the most beautiful bride. I think I was blushing

Sean — Mon, 22 Jan 2007 10:41:00 -0800

Wow, this is the most alike Pop and I have even looked

Sean — Mon, 22 Jan 2007 10:38:00 -0800

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening

Sean — Tue, 06 Feb 2007 09:13:00 -0800

My and my very Regal Mom

Sean — Mon, 22 Jan 2007 10:36:00 -0800

Emily and Me

Sean — Mon, 22 Jan 2007 10:35:00 -0800

One of my many beautiful nieces

where have all the good guys gone

Sean — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 07:19:00 -0700

The opening of this Joe Klein Article seems right to me.

Unlike Barack Obama, Bill Clinton does not believe in "the fierce urgency of now." The former President has an exquisitely languid sense of how political time unfurls. He understands that those moments the political community, especially the media, considers urgent usually aren't. He has seen his own election and re-election—and completing his second term—pronounced "impossible" and lived to tell the tale. He remembers that in spring 1992 he had pretty much won the Democratic nomination but was considered a dead man walking, running third behind Bush the Elder and Ross Perot. He knows that April is the silly season in presidential politics, the moment when candidates involved in a bruising primary battle seem weakest and bloodied, as both Hillary Clinton and Obama do now. It's the moment when pundits demand action—"Drop out, Hillary!"—and propound foolish theories.

As much as I would like to, I can't make myself believe that this campaign has hurt the democrats much. Rev Wright hurt Obama, bad, but wouldn't the scandal have hurt him more in the General Election? If Hillary somehow wins, then yes, the primary will have hurt the Democrats, since it will have somehow produced the wrong candidate. Klein goes on to finish the above quote with this:

And so I'm rather embarrassed to admit that I'm slouching toward, well, a theory: if this race continues to slide downhill, the answer to the Democratic Party's dilemma may turn out to be Al Gore.

I am starting to fear a late entry like Gore. Last week I wondered what happened to Bradley, and then I thought that the guy I really miss is Paul Tsongas. But are those the two who we should worry about? Just how popular IS Gore? And what will the donors think? Beats me.