Waiting on Fish

I went downtown to visit a buddy in Little Tokyo, but the traffic was too crazy and there was a dearth of parking to be found. So I headed up to the sushi bar ‘local’ near my house. Caro and the Kid are out of town with a friend, on their first trip away from LA, and I snapped this to send to her phone. I didn’t know the chef was even in the background. I caught him in a good pose.

Cornhusker Rage

A work colleague, Bart, after returning from his day off on Monday, to find the “Tuesday Trojan Smackdown” installation in his cubicle. The perps were a couple of USC grads who took it upon themselves to remind Bart, an alum of Nebraska, of Nebraska’s loss to the Trojans this past weekend. If you somehow doubted the veracity of a Cornhusker’s inner rage, this will give you some indication of how they feel about that particular defeat.

The Toughcats

The Toughcats are a three piece indie folk band from the Fox Islands in Penobscot Bay, Maine. Which couldn’t be further, it seems to me at the moment, from the corner of the sofa in the corner of my living room in the corner of my home on the corner of my block in this little corner of central Los Angeles.

Which is why the music on their blog page sounds all the more special to me. As the September sun fades behind the fog rolling in from the Pacific, filling in the dusky sky, I can picture the first cold winds of Autumn sweeping across the water and across the Fox Islands. Henry seems to like the music, too.

This is a blog I found by clicking the Next Blog link in the Blogger toolbar. A nice act of random discovery.

Sunset in Fontana-bama

Sunset at California Speedway in Fontana. Often referred to alternatively as ‘Fontana-bama’ or “Fon-tucky.’ That’s not a UFO, it was a spotlight that came on before the track lamps were fully lit. It cooled down from the blistering heat of the day, and we had great seats thanks to a friend at Ameriquest Mortgage (they sponsored the Busch race the day before). It was a strange peaceful feeling to look out across the edge of the city to the distant mountains. Even with the roar of the race cars circling the 2 mile track.

NASCAR Redneck Redux

What happens when you go to a NASCAR race with your brother? You drink a bunch of bloody marys, with beer chasers, then you go and buy matching visors to support your favorite driver, in this case Number 31 in the Cingular car, Jeff Burton. Who hasn’t won a race since the beginning of the millenium. We were just about the only Burton fans in the throng of 100,000 plus.

Oh, and the other thing that happens is you ask the guy sitting at the next table over to snap a camera phone picture, which records for history that, in fact, you can take the boy of North Carolina, but you can’t take the North Carolina out of the boy.

I don’t know if my brother is shooting me, or himself in the head. We had a great time.