I'm back in Greensboro for a so-called break in the semester. I say so-called because what it really means is that I get to take three days to not think about working, which means that I will probably spend three days trying unsuccessfully not to be writing the paper in my head that is due right after break, or a thesis chapter, or designing the bizarre arts and crafts project for my seminar (Seriously?). These are the times that I am exposed for the work obsessed, compulsive, and unhealthy individual that school has made me.

Just sitting here, waiting for laundry to dry, I am still compulsively writing pointless e-mails about things that no-one-but-me will care about until after the break is over. It's enough to make me hyperventilate. I'm even WRITING about work, even though it is a balmy 75 degrees in Greensboro, and sunny, and I have plenty of time to do the things that I need to do. I wish someone was here to slap my face and tell me: "Shut the fuck up, Paul! You have tons of time and you need to calm down, you ass!" Which, like the endless cycle of work I'm caught up in, simply deepens my guilt because I'm the one who has to do it! Nice.

Now, the good parts are these: 1) I'll be in a cabin with some friends for the weekend, 2) said cabin has a hot tub (hopefully without a time machine), 3) I'll have an entirely new field of restaurants to tell you about after its over, which makes both of us happy! and 4) I'm bringing my favorite local beer. All of this is great, and may serve to take my mind off of things for a little while. Here's hoping.

Graduate Colloquium...

On April 8th, on the Tufts Medford Campus, we will have the annual Tufts Graduate Colloquium on Theatre Scholarship. You should go. First of all, it will be a really interesting conversation with some of the foremost practitioner-scholars working in the Boston area, but there will also be free food. We all know that Graduate students cannot resist free food.

So be there, or feel my holy wrath (a little too much Dante's Inferno?) upon you.

It's Raining in Boston...

Did you catch my thinly veiled reference to a nearly-ancient Counting Crows song that only three people like? Yeah, you did. You know why you did? 'Cause you're one of those three people who read this thing. As Clay might say, It's because you're 'amazeballs.'

So here's the thing, folks. I'm about to do something that no one has done yet (to my knowledge), and that is the attempted organization of the first-ever interdisciplinary conference on Lady Gaga. Since I've announced the possibility, I've received overwhelming support from my (albeit limited) academic community in Boston. I'm not going to attempt to justify this right now. Frankly, I'm sick of doing it. If you can't see the creative and subversive ways Lady Gaga is changing the discourse on popular culture in this country, then I don't need to try to convince you. As some popular icon whose-name-I-don't-remember might say: "you're either in or out, what's it gonna be?"

Also, I've been challenged to turn 'disco-stick' into an accepted academic phrase. I don't think I even need to. Isn't this all that Freud and Lacan are really talking about, this phallus as metaphor for the popular psyche? Isn't this what Deleuze is railing against? Isn't the disco-stick of popular culture really the reigning paternal, hegemonic, normative impulse of our society? Isn't it ironic that Lady Gaga wants to ride on it? There. I've done it. It's history...and I know that there's another series of academic jokes there that I don't have time for.

Really, this mad rant is all about my thesis-time blues. I've been staring the beautiful visage of post-humanism in the face, and it's got like...two eyes and three noses now. That's how long I've worked on this this weekend. It's time to take a break.

I'm going to EVOO tonight for restaurant week. I promise to post faster than I did before about this place so you can make your decision about a reservation. You are taking advantage of restaurant week, right? Like I told you to? Good. I'm going to take a moment, breathe, and then head back out into the Apocalyptic rainstorm outside with a smile on my face...

I'm building an Ark. Only the people I like are going to be able to get on it.

A Morsel...Until Tonight

Bistro 5 and Other News...

I went to Bistro 5 for my birthday, and I can't believe or understand how busy I've been that I haven't posted anything about the experience yet. I have some trouble remembering now what I ate, but suffice it to say that it was fabulous, and we had excellent service. Actually, it won't even matter at this point what dishes I got, because the whole menu has changed by now. My advice is that you go. Go right now. What you'll get is delicious and seasonal Northern Italian food, and a varied wine list full of rarities. Who would have thought that you could find decent food in West Medford?

In other news, this past weekend I attended the Mid-America Theatre Conference in Cleveland, Ohio. Snooze, right? Cleveland...what a downer. What do I do in cities where there's nothing to do? I eat and drink copiously! My suggestion is that you hit Michael Symon's restaurant (of Iron Chef America fame) Lolita. This bistro-esque place has a nicely put-together (if somewhat limited) wine list, good food, and is less pricey than its big sister Lola. This place has the panache of an excellent restaurant, but still feels like it belongs in the neghborhood. I had roasted shrimp, roasted dates with bacon, and roasted beets (small appetizer plates we all shared). This was followed by a delectable (and appropriately cooked) pork-chop with mascarpone polenta. Simple, unpretentious, and tasty. A little loud, but I forgive them for the Friday night crowd.

Now, I've been asked several times what is so frugal about eating at these nice restaurants? Now is the time to give you a few tips.

First of all, most nice restaurants will allow you to do what's called a 'chef's tasting,' which usually involves a fixed price for three-four courses of the chef's choosing. Not only is this a great way to get to know a chef's food, but it is an affordable venture, more so than simply ordering off the menu. Also, you have the added benefit of being surprised by the food that comes out. If you're not picky, this is the way to go.

Another thing you can do is to check if the restaurant has a regular fixed price menu. Many restaurants do, if only for a certain time at night. Sometimes restaurants will run specials during certain seasons. In Boston, restaurant week approaches (March 14-19, 21-26). During these dates, a very affordable fixed price menu is available at many restaurants in the metro area. This is a great time to have culinary experiences that you may not otherwise be able to afford.

Also, bring your own wine. I rarely ever (unless I'm feeling extravagant) buy wine at the restaurant. Restaurants make much of their money from the alcohol they sell, and they do this with markups from 30-50% or even higher. I know that I can choose a better bottle of wine for less money, pay the corking fee at the restaurant (usually $5-$10), and still come out far ahead of the restaurant's wine list. If you're worried about your wine going with your food, don't be. Instead, go online and look at the menu. Many of the best restaurants showcase their food online, so you can get a sense of what you'll be eating. If you're having a tasting, many restaurants will give you a 4-5 oz pour with each course for a few bucks more. Or don't worry about it. After all, in three-four courses, the wine you chose will probably go with something!

Now, choosing the wine at the wine shop can be a little daunting if you don't know your way around. Thankfully, I've already written a brief primer on tasting and buying wine. I include some concise directions about grabbing that great bottle...

In other VERY important news, Lady Gaga's new video Telephone will be coming out tomorrow, and I am very excited. I'd like to talk more about her soon, but you have plenty to think about now, and I have a lot of eating to do!

The Way Things Are...

I am officially twenty-seven years old now, recovering from an evening's festivities, and preparing to have a nice, quiet dinner with friends

In Iain Pears' book The Dream of Scipio, a main character at just such a dinner notes (I quote liberally):

"I will merely point out to you that all of this- food, wine, and even cognac- are nothing in comparison to what they permit, which is the easy and unrestrained exercise of friendship manifested through conversation. We have been sitting here now for near three hours in perfect amity, as we have known each other for many years- many decades in a few cases. We have managed, I am glad to say, not to talk of the war, as this last supper- my imagery again, I apologize- is to celebrate civilization, not to mourn its passing. We have talked here of literature, I believe. Some of you I heard discussing the performance of Tosca cancelled last week, taking consolation at having seen Furtwangler conduct it in Milan three years ago. One person I heard complaining about the way Cezanne is now considered a good painter. My friend Julien, who owns a Cezanne, was polite and restrained...'

"'Such refinement, gentlemen! Such delicacy of address, such sophistication of tastes. But not, for me, the essence of civilization. No; instead I heard the goddess brush her soft lips over my ear when I heard my friend over there lean across the table and ask whether it was true that a mutual acquaintance had separated from his wife.'

'Gossip? You say. Idle chitchat? Yes gentlemen, Men in trenches, men starving, men in chains, do not have the leisure to gossip. Gossip is the product of spare time, of surplus and of comfort. Gossip is the creation of civilization, and the product of friendship. For when my friend here made his inquiry he passed on the information necessary to keep the delicate fabric of friendship together....'

'I fear, my friends, we will not have much time to gossip in the future, and we will be too far apart to have anyone to gossip about. So, with this meal, I must declare civilization closed...and turn ourselves into beasts to survive what awaits us..'" (140-141)

I would extend this idea to encompass such minor celebrations as birthdays. Birthdays, focused as they are upon one person, are in essence a wasteful occupation of time and energy, time and energy produced by the work of civilization, and which describe the apogee of the idleness that civilization makes possible. We therefore take birthdays for granted, partially because we do not see the great machinery that allows us to celebrate the birth of one person, and partially because we take for granted our ability to live another year.

However, this is my argument for the intentional celebration of birthdays. The ripple of good wishes, of festivity, and of friendship that flows to one person during their birthday is, as Pears points out, the very stuff of civilization. Birthdays maintain our acquaintances, re-connect us with old friends, and allow us to indulge in frivolity of all sorts. I would say that far from taking them for granted, we should allow them to be precisely what they are: the marking of days for a mortal person, the reestablishment of community in the face of the inevitable, and an idle occasion. Instead of disregarding them, we should hold them as important rites that we are privileged to enjoy, in the full knowledge of the stuff that allows us to celebrate them in the first place.

Thank you all for your good wishes and blessings on this, my birthday. I am a very lucky man to be able to celebrate it with you, and I hope I shall be able to for many more.

I bid you peace, dear friends.