Mood mellow

Alternative career option. And a place that kneads your pain. That's what the Shiatsu Institute on College Street offers. A two year full time (8:30 to 4:00) program will set you back 12K. A treatment by a qualified therapist is 52$/hour. If somebody did the math, working full time would mean breakeven in a few months for a popular practice.

Obviously this must be a portable job, meaning one could land in a strange city, setup shop and goto work with nothing more than the rent covered, a shingle hung out in plain view, and a few word of mouth references to get the public relations going.

Having passed this place about a dozen times in our last few midweek trips, curiousity got the better of me. Which is how I landed up inside and found all this out. One of the curious things about this street is the number of other options that turned up in close vicinity. A restaurant that offers free dancing lessons ... A theatre that plays to alternate muses. A cinema hall dedicated to festival films (by the way I'm going to this place on Saturday to catch Night Watch a Russian movie as part of a moviegoers club based in North York)

Obviously there are enough options to keep evenings fully booked in the crackberry of choice.

But hey, midweek for us begins with a pitcher and ends with a load of Ammo. If that doesn't make sense, you need to begin at the beginning and keep coming back till you reach this end.

El Bodegon, a Peruvian restaurant we'd visited before turned out in our sights. We went primarily to reacquaint ourselves with the waitress we'd met there on our last visit. She was Latin, She was Tall, She was Hot. And we never did find out her name. Neither did we this time around. For she wasn't there. Despite this minor inconvenience a pitcher of Amsterdam blonde put us into mood mellow. The place was crowded this time around. We couldn't believe the size of the entrees. They were let me put it this way not for the casual dilettante who like to pick up their bites on the end of a toothpick. I ordered Pork chops and it came with sauteed onions, rice and potatoes. Enough there to make a grown man fill up to the top of his brim. Peter had the steak and it came with beans, rice, fried bananas and sauteed onions.

To fill in the waiting we ordered grilled calamaris on greens for an appetiser. This is the kind of meal that we could gladly serve a condemned man for his last meal. 'nuff said!

We passed a lonely spire that had been hemmed in by a nicely curved condo. Luckily whoever had designed it had taken the trouble to blend it in, so that it looked like part of the last bit left of the church steeple, nicely done in red brick and black roofed to contrast with the aged red brick and dark green steeple of the spire.

At Ammo we picked up a Latin movie about an underground gambling cult, a Korean Horror movie, a thai action flick and a taiwanese dirty harry type action movie. Should tide us over to next mid week at least without indigestion of the adrenaline glands hopefully.

We walked about a bit after that as well. A slight drizzle meant that the budding shoots glistened that much darker in the streetlights. Surprisingly the streets were quieter than usual. The drive home was very quiet, and there was a stillness about the lake, and all around us that left us with the kind of hushed feeling you get in church sometimes when everybody's gone home. It's the kind of night when you want to roast some chestnuts by the waterfront and sip a steaming hot mug of cider. Mood mellow like a comfortable old blanket all around us ..

Tread slowly

for the night is young, and there's a bar across the street. The patios are full, and the streets warm with the smell of a summer night.

Wait, it's still April isn't it? Try telling that to the lovely lasses skin tight in their jeans. Try telling that to the kids who were out in the parks. And try telling that to the smile on every face.

Midweek as usual. But dressed to kill. Almost shuffling our feet away with it's siren call. And what better way to start it all than South Louies.

Yeah folks, maddening as it may sound to the reader looking to live vicariously through our wide eyed strut through the gastronomic epicenters this side of paradise, we had come to a stop sign that had made us pause, and take note that while the world may not be around much longer, there's a place on earth that every wanderer dreams of in their mad journey through the modern day martyrdom some wise guy phrased not so eloquently as making a living. It's the kind of place where the beers are cold, the wings are hot, the calamaris buttery, and the fajitas sizzle. A place where even the whisper of your thoughts is enough to conjure up the next round.

Yeah, we've been here before. And we'll be here again. If necessary again and again. And the rest of the world can wait while we wash down the melt in your mouth calamaris and the hot crunchy wings down with a golden mead brewed to frosted glass perfection. And the process of decompression fast forwards to the point where one says hello the way it is meant. To strangers, as you saunter down easy street on College.

On the way back we detoured. A minor matter of a car that had been maneuvred into an er tight corner. We managed to leave the tight corner to itself and the car in it's place. With a new set of scratches to match the old ones.

The bookstore. A series of requests nay sayed later, we managed to find a few things that we hadn't planned on finding. A Brothers Grimm volume, a couple of Margaret Atwood poetry volumes ... The circle Game, and the Journals of Susanna Moodie, couple of Ed McBains, a Dashiel Hammett, around 4 bucks each.

The usual stop at Ammo to refuel for movie, and it was back again to Square zero. All of a sudden I couldn't help envying the Night Owl.

For those not familiar with the song by Little River Band ...

There is a bar right across the street He's got a need he just can't beat Out on the floor he shuffles his feet away He'll get the girl 'cause he looks so fine He's gonna win her every time He knows he will, he's dressed to kill He's a night owl CHORUS: Move on, there's a howl of a night owl calling To belong, she's crying in the night Be strong, find the heart of a night owl falling Stay up till dawn Until the night is gone What will become of the restless kind Where do they go when they've done their time Wearing their hearts out on the line for all to see Must be the gypsy in their soul They have a need to rock and roll They always will, they're out there still They're the night owls Repeat Chorus

There is a bar right across the street He's got a need he just can't beat Out on the floor he shuffles his feet away He'll get the girl 'cause he looks so fine He's gonna win her every time He knows he will, he's dressed to kill He's a night owl CHORUS: Move on, there's a howl of a night owl calling To belong, she's crying in the night Be strong, find the heart of a night owl falling Stay up till dawn Until the night is gone What will become of the restless kind Where do they go when they've done their time Wearing their hearts out on the line for all to see Must be the gypsy in their soul They have a need to rock and roll They always will, they're out there still They're the night owls Repeat Chorus Repeat First Verse Repeat Chorus

A tale of two cities

Seattle this time of the year should be wet. It should be cloudy, stay indoorsy kind of rainy. But when it isn't like that, it can make you want to bottle the just washed blue skies, the powdery clouds floating by, the sunkissed smell of the lush green all around, the little nip in the air that makes the word fresh sparkle in your blood ... yeah it was like that this Monday, and who could blame us if we made the trip down to Arnie's down by the Ferry. Business had taken us down to Everett, and from there it was a short hike down to the Ferries. Arnie's is seated just on top of the hill overlooking Puget's sound bordered by the peninsula on the other side. We had the sea food, and believe me until you've had their crab bisque you ain't tasted soup. Their Alaskan halibut was a treat as well.

From there to Reno was quite a change, and dinner at the hotel didn't help matters any. The sheer contrast of the rugged sage, and the neonlit casinos was compounded by the pepper steak which was more pepper than steak truth be told.

Anyways midweek without Pete and off College Street was never going to hit the high notes. But when needs must ... There were four of us and we made a party of it at PF Changs, down which is a self styled Chinese Bistro. Well, if ultra chic waitresses, Australian Shiraz, Sierra microbrews, and dress for dinner kinda ambience is the recipe for success they've sure got it down pat here. The lighting was low enough to be romantic and red hued enough to put the scarlet into the women around. The food wasn't half as bad as the night before. In fact, it was quite good chinese. I found the Tropical Green Tea too vanilla scented for my liking and had to take a second option at the regular green tea, and their Shiraz was a 2003 as opposed to the listed 2002, but hey if one's in the mood for a wine with a bite then this wouldn't make you wince more than normal. We had scallops, shrimp and fish for the main and they were good enough to have us polish off the rather large helpings.

So if you're in Reno and you want American Chinese on a rather small table, with candlelight and soft hued lanterns, along with food that fits your wallet nicely (they even have a trainer's menu which lists carbs, proteins et al) you know where to go now :)

Take two

Whether tis better to suffer thirst pint by pint or
with one pitcher take arms against a weekload of bullshit
...

Midweek has a knack of arriving exactly on time. The usual route is via 427, down to Queensway up through to Gardiner, down through Lakeshore and then cut through by the Ex all the way up to College. As can be imagined in the right company that route can usually be counted on to decompress even a tightly wound watch.

Tonight however existential choices seemed more appropriate than selecting a new place to explore.

Such moments do tend to bring out the flashbacks in technicolor. Images of delectably fried chicken wings lovingly brushed with Tabasco set the tastebuds tingling. Cold beer in copious quanties poured down memory lane and drowned out all other options.

Before we had a chance to cast our ballots we found ourselves settling into the comfortable booths, the same one from last week incidentally. And once again the waitress appeared like a genie out of a rather commodious bottle. This time the faintest hint of a smile along with the same understated politeness. In one of those rare moments where one finds the other finishing your thoughts we had ordered wings, beer, more wings, more beer, calamari and pizza topped with black angus steaks and jalapeno peppers.

About a couple of hours later, and a couple of contented belches later, we were sauntering our way slowly down to Ammo. Not much talk tonight. More like nodded ummms and aaaahs. South Side Louie's was indeed not destined to remain a one nighter in our books.

Maybe it was the rather sumptous repast, maybe it was the nostalgia once again rose tinting our tilted views, but we ended up buying The 39 Steps and La Dolce Vita. Obviously going from the Rhodesian returned Hannay's adventures to the jaundiced immorality of Marcello is not the same route for even hardened criterion collectors but as you all know by now, we're not just into the usual suspects anymore.