Week Thirty-Four: Blair and Andi

This blog is about stories. It is about back stories, and the story of the dinner. Often times, stories become stale. How bland is it to read about what I cooked? Couldn't be more than the food itself. Once and a while, you get a GREAT story. And when Blair and Andi visited us from Arizona, we got one.



Blair and I have a rich history. He was my best bud back in Middle School, and the first person I experimented using alcohol with. We were destined to spend the majority of this night recollecting the milestones of our youth. The first few drunk nights were definitely talked about. Especially the getting caught story, which was fantastic and includes me tumbling through 60 feet of prickly bushes. There were also the Arizona/Colorado road trip visits. Aaron (my roommate, Week 4), Jancsi (Week 2) and Gomez (Week 6) went to mechanic school with Blair in Phoenix. During that time period, I was living in Boulder, CO attending CU. One spring break, I road tripped down there to hangout with everyone. Blair and Aaron also came up from AZ to party in CO. All of these things provided great stories. But THE story was yet to be touched upon.



The story of the dinner was simple. I just made some baked Salmon in lemon and garlic, with a side of fruit salad, a fried vegetable meadly and some nuts. Healthy and light. Blair and Andi were awesome and brought us two bottles of wine, and Andi made Erica some jewelry. They also brought us a plant. We finished off the meal with vanilla ice cream and chocolate fudge. Not bad.



Blair is a character. He is very funny and gets very animated when he gets on a roll. He fills out details with hand motions and does different voices, all for the sake of painting a picture. The art of story telling. He is one of the best I know. So, as we ate, and reviewed all our mistakes we made together growing up, we stumbled upon what we have been calling "The Kidnapped Story." Naturally, Andi and Erica wanted to her it. I stumbled through it poorly, and butchered the surprise. Like a hero, Blair took over and absolutely brought the house down...



THE KIDNAPPED STORY:
Back during the summer between sophomore and junior year of high school, I became friends with a group of girls. Tiffany, Amber and Heather. I spent the summer chasing them around, stirring up general boy/girl trouble, and having a good time. One night, our buddy Morgan drove Blair and I over to Amber's parent's house. She lived in the Northgate area, in the lower section of the home. Her parents were, of course, unaware there were boys over.
The small crowd, tucked away in her bedroom after sneaking in the window, became too loud. The mother was alerted of a disturbance and we heard her coming down the stairs. Panic ensued. Blair dove in the closet. I jumped under the bed, which was a low frame and smushing my face. It was not comfortable. Morgan, sitting on the window sill, just dove back out the window. The girls scooted the dresser over to block the lockless door. Which, of course, set off a red flag for Amber's mother when she attempted to open it.
The moody "what's going on here, girls?" phase was short lived. As Amber's mom looked out the open window and saw doughy-eyed, stuble faced Morgan, looking like a homeless pervert outside a high school girl's window. A peeping Tom. She screamed.
I remember barely breathing, laying completely still, rolling my pupils to the side and making eye contact with Blair, who had to the closet open just a crack to observe what was going on. And I remember Amber's mother belting out in a shrill voice "THERE'S A MAN!"
Morgan, like a true friend, turned and ran. Then got in his car, which was our ride, and drove away. Wisely so, because Amber's mom called the police. And shortly after, the police arrived. I was still under the bed, Blair was still trapped in the closet. Seeing police boots on the carpet while your face is pressed up against a box spring is not the coolest thing. But, much like the SPD normally does, the officer failed TO LOOK IN THE CLOSET OR UNDER THE BED while in the room for what seemed like at least 15 minutes, talking to the girls and examining the window.
The cop left. Our problems were over! Except the dooming words we were about to hear. Amber's mom was so freaked out, she was going to set the home security system. The girls were safe inside the house, so it was time to shut all the doors and windows and make it so a blaring alaram sounds if they open back up.
Blair and I... were trapped!
I spent that night under a bed, wide awake, waiting for my chance to escape. Finally, the mother went to work in the morning, the alarm was disarmed, and Blair and I bolted out the door sometime around 7am. We made it up to a 7-11 and I called my mom from a pay phone. She hadn't heard from me all night and was rather eager to hear my explaination. To her credit, she loved the story and gave us a total pass. And picked us up. I've always been pleasantly surprised by my parents when I am honest with them. The penalty is never too harsh.



So Blair tells The Kidnapped Story and knocks it out of the park. I am crying laughing so hard. With all the back-in-the-day talk going on, we decide Blair should visit with Aaron and Gomez, who were both working at the Redwood bar on Capitol Hill. Erica stayed behind to watch Lola, and I hopped in her new car and played designated driver for my old friend and his lady. We only stayed at the bar for one drink, and then a Dick's run was necessary. It was good to see Blair and Andi, and they were awesome guests.

Next week, we have another blast from the past, the drummer from my former high school punk band, John, and his longtime girlfriend Lauren. What makes this dinner party even more special is the third guest: John and Lauren's bulldog Cola. So stayed TUNED. The cutest dog party of all time, a Cola/Lola mixer, on it's way!

Week Thirty-Three: Ian and Minta

There isn't a more tumultuous relationship than a friendship turned business partnership. Turned failed band. The failed band was The Let Go. It was a three man group, and if you remember Week 22, one of those men already came to Tune Castle on a DD. This week, the holy trinity of boy-band backpack rap was to be completed. Erica and I opened our doors to the other rapper in the group, Ian (Kublakai), and his girlfriend Minta for dinner.



Both Ian and I being less level headed than Joe (the former producer of the group), we had a harder time straightening things out when the business side of the band fell apart. The entire second album (Morning Comes) was entirely funded by a fan of the group, with the intention of recouping the investment. Things became stressful and plans fell through, including a cancelled tour with Pigeon John and Josh Martinez and mutual agreement to part ways with the group's record label Camobear. Tension was high as we argued about exactly how the investment should be spent, and ended up squandering all of it on tracking, mixing, mastering and pressing up the album. Desperate to promote our music, I forced Joe and Ian to do a free and subsequently very amateur looking music video for an old song ("Sun Don't Shine" posted below). With no gas (or money) left in our tank, The Let Go parted ways without even doing a release party for our final piece of work.



Then drama ensued. I was so infuriated by the situation, I deleted Ian from my Facebook friends and unfollowed him on Twitter. This might seem unimportant or fickle, but in the egomaniac world of rappers, it was a bold move. It was a message. Removing someone from your digital social circle is far beyond removing them from your real life. Think about it, how many extra acquaintances do you have online? I have almost 1,600 friends, I know maybe half of them, and hang out with probably 20. You pretty much allow any person you met once at a bar on board. To dissolve a relationship that is so easy to obtain is pretty mean. It was shitty of me.

Needless to say, my actions were not well received and we didn't speak for that entire summer. Nearing the end of August 2010, a local rapper we toured with asked me if our group would play his album release party. Having never been given a guarantee, without even talking to Ian or Joe, I told him, "sure, we will if you pay us $XXX." I was honestly thinking he would tell me that is ridiculous and I was a jerk. But he said yes, so I had to then reopen dialogue with my former bandmates to see if this was something they were interested in.

Ian and Joe agreed that some extra pocket money would be nice, and so we took the show and began to rebuild our friendships. A string of indicators that the group would've been successful followed. We were nominated and selected as one of the country's top indie groups in an Airwalk sponsored competition, which we placed in the top five bands. A label in Japan optioned to release the better songs from our first two albums as one project overseas. I funded a radio push for Morning Comes, in an effort to up sales and pay back our fan, and we got some nice play all around the country. There were small grumbles about a resurgence, but, ultimately, talks ended and we all went our separate ways to make solo music.

I have maintained contact with both members since, and both Ian and Joe have proven to be very supportive and mature friends. Ian has seen my band play at least three times now and even came to watch one of my standup comedy "performances." At the end of the day, it is too bad The Let Go didn't pan out, but it is much better to still be friends with these guys. I have some very fond tour memories with them and it is nice we were able to move past our creative differences and be buds again.



So the meal of choice was filet mignon. I went to my pals at Rain Shadow Meats in Melrose Market to get the beef. They told me the best way to do it right was get my grill as hot as it goes, and hit each side for four minutes. So that is just what I did. My cut turned out a little on the rare side, but the other ones turned out perfect.



To accompany the meat, I decided to make red potatoes yet again. This time around, I swore to cook them properly. I placed some foil down on a baking sheet, sliced the potatoes in half, poured the remainder of the VEGGIE stock of last week over them in the pan, added lemon, butter, garlic and rosemary. Then I baked them FOR TWO HOURS at 350. They came out great!



To follow the meal, I broke out a classic dessert: vanilla ice cream with chocolate fudge. Overall a successful dinner. You cannot go wrong with steak, potatoes and ice cream! For the first time, the portions were perfect. Not too much, but enough to fill us up.



Shortly after we ate, our roommate Aaron arrived home from floating Green Lake with our friend Mihasha and his buddy Son. We all went out back to the porch and had drinks together. Then Griff got back as well and joined the party.

As always, there was quite a bit of rap talk. Minta and Erica got to relate to one another about how annoying constant talk of the crappy local hip hop scene can be. Ian and I lamented over the fact all our fans enjoy The Let Go material the most and constantly ask for more. We tossed out the idea of doing more work, but concluded we are happier working alone. And thus, sorry folks, The Let Go will not be working on new material.

Speaking of Ian's solo effort at music, he is hosting a big show at Nectar on September 8th. It is called Noisemaker Fest and the headlining act is our former labelmates from Portland the Chicharones. I will be there with Erica, after hosting a dinner for Mike Folden and his lady friend. Mike and Ian prepared this video to explain the event:


Next week, my bestfriend from Middle School Blair returns to Seattle from Phoenix with his longtime partner Andi. I wasn't sure I would get to include Blair in 52DD since he rarely returns from the desert, so I am very excited to see him! You'll be hearing all about it...

Week Thirty-Two: Aaron and Nell

I will admit, I was in somewhat of a funk recently. Like my end of March, depression beard funk. I've been spreading myself thin at work, especially caring too much about how business goes on a daily basis at my shop. I've been going way too hard with music, both creating and promoting it. I badly needed some balance. Luckily, my unofficial spiritual adviser from the past was about to reemerge. This week, Erica and I welcomed my buddy from high school Aaron Harris and his lovely girlfriend Nell.



Aaron is an extremely talented artist. In high school, it was drawing. Later in life, he picked up the brush and has developed into a rather incredible painter. I purchased several pieces from him, a few of them are hanging in my bedroom currently. There was one piece, however, the large painting I am holding up in Week 22's picture for Joe and Christina's date, that we couldn't find a suitable place to hang up in Tune Castle. Erica calls it "the boner painting" because one of the gentlemen riding on a jet ski clearly has an erection. We allowed Aaron to reclaim the boner painting.

The only possible place for the boner to go, was of course, the giant gaping hole above our dining table. That void was finally filled prior to Aaron's visit, when Erica and I decided and agree upon hanging a framed woven-bark tapestry. The frame matched our table, the tapestry matched our cushions, and the the size was perfect. So Aaron and Nell were the first couple to see an almost fully decorated living/dining room.



Aaron has always been ahead of the curve, stylistically and trend-wise. He always had the music that was about to be popular but wasn't yet. He caught onto stuff early, in art or fashion, before other people. He isn't a hipster, because hipsters are phony bandwagon hoppers. He is legitimately ahead of the game. So it was no surprise to me that he pulled off an ever fabled DOUBLE MATCH. He arrived wearing a sweater that matched Nell's top. He removed it to reveal a button up shirt that was nearly identical to mine. He had done it! Successfully matching outfits with two members of a double date. Well done, Aaron, well done.



Now, typically, I would dive deeper into some backstory. But, the vast majority of our date ending up being backstory! A few bottles of wine into it and we were getting all nostalgic. We ended up recanting every good memory we could recall. So I will get to that all in a moment, but first, the food.

Aaron is a vegetarian by philosophy. He does not support the murder of animals. My secret bleeding heart agrees with him but I don't possess the willpower he has to bring my thoughts into action. So I needed to cook a meal with no meat for the second time on a date. I decided to roll with Spinach and Artichoke Heart Lasagna.



Ingredients list was simple:
-lasagna noodles
-veggie stock
-spinach
-artichoke hearts
-tomato paste
-chopped onion
-garlic
-mozzarella
-crumbled feta

Turns out lasagna is the easiest thing on the planet to cook. I just chopped the white onion, tossed it in a skillet, cut up four cloves of garlic, added it to the mix, poured in some veggie stock, added tomato paste and chopped spinach. Placed the mixture over the noodles in a baking pan in layers, adding the mozzarella over it, more noddles, making a stack, then topped with feta. Popped it in the oven. Easy.

On the side we served some boiled broccoli with lemon and fresh fruit. The meal was decent. The top noddle over cooked during the baking process, but the flavors were there. We capped the dinner with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and chocolate fudge. It was all pretty decent, but not my best showing at the rodeo.



I am notorious in my circle of friends for having over-documented high school. I literally have two trunks full of pictures. They just sit around in my garage, waiting for old friends to bait me into taking them out. Aaron, an old friend, did just that.

The photos revealed some tragic realities of my high school experience. No matter how you spin it, I wore bright red gloves and black cowboy hat with a red feather to prom. That is just a fact. I'm not sure what universe I actually pull that off in. So now, 12 years after the incident, I can fully see what an amazing tool I looked like at the time. (And I am typing this blog wearing a t-shirt with 9 cats on it... the more things change?)

I didn't fare any better as our search through the trunk continued. Harris found an old Creative Arts publication I used to put out with Riana's (Week 9) father Tom. Every single poem I wrote was about the same girl who dumped me the year before. He read every single poem I wrote out loud to my wife and Nell. At that point, I knew there was only way to level the playing field...

I have video. When we were 16, our friend Blair procured a video camera. I took the tape to a transfer place (it was VHS back in 1998) and made it into a DVD. The video shows a bleached blonde Harris (as well as a bleached blonde ME) skanking to Sublime, dancing around in a living room in boxer shorts and screaming into a traffic cone. It was clear... we were AWESOME in high school. It was also the end to a great evening. Erica and I went up stairs, and Nell and Aaron crashed in Aaron Greene's bed (both roommates were out for the night).

Nell and Aaron sneaked away in the morning and went to the Green Lake PCC. They picked up some eggs, veggies and spinach, cleaned up our kitchen and started cooking us breakfast. For the first time in 52DD, Erica and I woke up to somebody cooking for us.



All and all I would say things have turned around for me this week. The car troubles turned into a trade-in and new vehicle. My mood is back to pleasant, which is better than average for me. And I have a lot to look forward to on the horizon. Specifically this week: a visit from my musical ex-boyfriend Ian and his current girlfriend Minta. Stay TUNED.

Week Thirty-One: Aunt Debi and Uncle Jim

Come the first day of the eighth month. Come the second roommate. Yet come no artwork on the dining/living room walls. Come car trouble! Oh yes, car trouble come. Come extra work training. Yet no come raise. And come family. Aunt and Uncle from Arizona, Debi and Jim, come.



My Aunt Debi is my Mom's (Week 20) younger sister. They were raised in Tucson, AZ together. And Debi didn't end up far from home, eventually settling with her love Jim in Phoenix. I've known them both for as long as I can remember. We've broken bread at every single possible family function: Christmas, reunions, vacations, Weddings, you name it. I have always enjoyed their company, and looked forward to seeing them in particular, if I was going to be around relatives.



I got word that Jim was coming up for his annual fishing trip with my Dad (also, Week 20). This time, Debi was coming along to visit Mom and see plays and go shopping while the men were away. I jumped on the chance to play host to a couple who has so many times provided me with a meal.



In fact, once on a tour with Louis Logic and my former group The Let Go, Debi and Jim put us all up and cooked us steaks on a break between Flagstaff and Los Angeles. It was a well needed down time and real food on a rugged path that ultimately lead to the band... disbanding. Had it not been for this halftime break, we might not have finished the tour!



Prior to Debi and Jim's visit, Erica and I discussed the gene on my Mom's side of the family that makes the women organized and thorough. She erroneously claimed it was a Tune gene. To correct her, I noted it was from my Mom's side, thus not a Tune gene, but a Mickey gene. And of course, when Debi arrived, in the effort of achieving perfection, she corrected me that it was also from her mother's side, and thus, a White trait. My family tree is culturally dominated by White women.



And those White women love their white wine. They arrived with two bottles, to match our two bottles. The meal was still in process of becoming edible. Surprisingly, it was the red potatoes holding me back. So we popped open the champagne and did a tour of the Castle while I shifted the batch from the oven into boiling water to speed up the process and hopefully moisten up the tatters.



When they had what I thought was enough time, I plated the meal. And this is what I cooked: breaded pork loin chops, baked asparagus, red potatoes and a side of coleslaw. The potatoes, yet again, ended up too firm, but very flavorful. The asparagus and slaw were pretty standards sides. But the pork turned out fabulous.



And this is how I prepared it:
-rubbed the pork loin chops in flour and garlic powder
-dipped them in three scrambled eggs
-covered them in seasoned Italian bread crumbs
-placed them in the oven for 45 minutes at 350
-started a mix of white wine, milk and cream of mushroom soup on a burner
-pulled the pork out and dumped the mixture in the pan
-placed the pan in the oven and baked it for another 45 minutes



Over dinner, we discussed how their son (and my cousin) Brian and his wife are doing. We briefly talked about politics, as I ranted about how odd it is the Republican Party is putting forth a Mormon Presidential candidate. I believe that contradicts directly with the values of most conservatives, seeing as the right wingers gain a large portion of their stance on main issues from Christian philosophy (abortion, gay rights, etc). This lead us into a long-winded discussion about religion and spirituality. Always one of my favorite topics.



Speaking of topics, we did the Table Topics. In the course of the game, I looked at Debi and Jim and said "It's nice to get to know you as friends." We always knew each other through these boxed in, defined roles. But now, as an adult, I was able to sit down over dinner and a bottle of wine (or 4) and be myself and get to know them, just as people. As friends. And that is the greatest part about getting older. The labels just kind of shake off and you become you and people allow you to be you and you get to see them as well.

Next week I'm having over part of my high school family, the "other Aaron" (or White Aaron, as my Dad would call him). I knew him as a friend first and he became family. Then he traveled the world for a while and has since moved to Olympia, WA. So I am very much looking forward to seeing him and meeting his lady friend Nell. Cheers.