His first messageboard entry:
http://thefrozenfoodsection.com/message.asp
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Helias is BACK!
His email is drummachineking@gmail.com.
His first messageboard entry:
http://thefrozenfoodsection.com/message.asp
His first messageboard entry:
http://thefrozenfoodsection.com/message.asp
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
St. Louis Steps Up in Soccer Culture at Barristers of Clayton
I'm in the middle of a watershed moment in St. Louis history:
I'm watching four Champions League games at once (out of the eight playing) LIVE at Barristers of Clayton, a "soccer bar" done in classic English pub fashion (including the Barclays Premiership Table and the current standings of the teams).
The day is Wednesday, November 25, 2009.
I'm pinching myself to make sure this is really happening. For the first time in St. Louis, an establishment has EIGHT live channels of live Champions League soccer playing at once. Since I've begun typing, Milan and Marseille have traded goals and Besiktas of Turkey have gone up one on Manchester United...right in front me...at the same time.
Not impressed?
If you've ever lived in the Midwest during the last century, there is one sport everyone knows is NOT on tv, and that is soccer. To be settled in amongst a restaurant full of Champions League fans watching any eight games at once was inconceivable before today.
Now, it's magical.
A middle-aged woman with an Eastern European accent excitedly dials her phone, telling some male friends, "They're got Besiktas on at Barristers, get over here now!". Jason, the owner, lets me hold the remote control, making it so that all games are at my beck and call. The downside is I can only see the four flat screens at the bar, so even though we have the "eight-games-at-once-with-tvs-at-full-capacity" available in the rest of the establishment, I can only indulge in what's in front of me, without looking like some freakshow, running back and forth, up and down the aisles like a star-struck kid waiting for Ronaldinho to remember how great he is...but I do have the remote, and that makes it good enough to be able to check in on the other guys once in awhile...you know...just to make sure they're ok.
St. Louis stepped it up for soccer fans.
Miracles do happen.
Barristers
15 N Meramec
Clayton MO 63105
314.726.5007
I'm watching four Champions League games at once (out of the eight playing) LIVE at Barristers of Clayton, a "soccer bar" done in classic English pub fashion (including the Barclays Premiership Table and the current standings of the teams).
The day is Wednesday, November 25, 2009.
I'm pinching myself to make sure this is really happening. For the first time in St. Louis, an establishment has EIGHT live channels of live Champions League soccer playing at once. Since I've begun typing, Milan and Marseille have traded goals and Besiktas of Turkey have gone up one on Manchester United...right in front me...at the same time.
Not impressed?
If you've ever lived in the Midwest during the last century, there is one sport everyone knows is NOT on tv, and that is soccer. To be settled in amongst a restaurant full of Champions League fans watching any eight games at once was inconceivable before today.
Now, it's magical.
A middle-aged woman with an Eastern European accent excitedly dials her phone, telling some male friends, "They're got Besiktas on at Barristers, get over here now!". Jason, the owner, lets me hold the remote control, making it so that all games are at my beck and call. The downside is I can only see the four flat screens at the bar, so even though we have the "eight-games-at-once-with-tvs-at-full-capacity" available in the rest of the establishment, I can only indulge in what's in front of me, without looking like some freakshow, running back and forth, up and down the aisles like a star-struck kid waiting for Ronaldinho to remember how great he is...but I do have the remote, and that makes it good enough to be able to check in on the other guys once in awhile...you know...just to make sure they're ok.
St. Louis stepped it up for soccer fans.
Miracles do happen.
Barristers
15 N Meramec
Clayton MO 63105
314.726.5007
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Chocolate Tale #3: Home, home on the Park Rangers
Yesterday afternoon (after Lyon tied Liverpool 1-1 in the Champions League) I cruised into Tillis Park to sit in my minivan and write songs. Earlier in the day, I'd connected with a friend who produced some of the best homemade chocolate I'd ever eaten. He called it Trainwreck...I guess it being so good it caused engineers to crash trains...or something like that. Anywho, I wrote for about an hour while eating pinches of my chocolate and headed out around dark. I arrived at the exit of the park to find two park rangers flagging me down.
"Why are you in the park so late?" asked the white, male ranger.
"I come here every other day to write and listen to music. I thought the park was open 'a half-hour after dark'. Is it not?"
"The sign says the park closes 'a half-hour after sunset'," his darker, female partner informed me, "but why did you go around the other sign saying ONLY AUTHORIZED VEHICLES BEYOND THIS POINT?" She was referring to the park closing the main road to traffic, so they could install their famous Christmas lights.
"I didn't read it that carefully cause I followed another car in, so I assumed since it wasn't blocked off, it wasn't a big deal."
"We're still gonna need to check you're ID."
As I sat waiting for my license to clear, I considered tossing the last, little, less than a gram of chocolate out the window, just in case, you know, they decided to be assholes and bust me. I considered it...but I was a bit curious to see if they would try to bust me, since contraband chocolate is finally becoming accepted as our American right...at least by the intelligent folk.
Five minutes later a police car shows up. A cop gets out and makes a beeline for me...oh well.
"Alright sir, we know this vehicle contains contraband chocolate, so it's in your best interest for to tell us exactly where it is right now before you get into further trouble." Wow, I guess I had forgotten how pungent this particular chocolate is. I told him where I kept it, and the male ranger went looking for it (and through the rest of my van), while the female ranger ran my license.
"Are you carrying any other drugs, like heroin, meth, cocaine or crack?"
"No Sir...just chocolate."
"If you're hiding anything, we will find out, and you will be prosecuted more severely for withholding information."
"I said, just chocolate Sir." He had me stand back from the van, then he reprimanded me for standing too far from the van. He was very intense and aggressive. I knew I had done nothing wrong, so I waited. Finally he opened up my chocolate carry case: a prescription bottle made specifically for medicinal chocolate.
"Do you know it's a felony to use a prescription bottle with no sticker on it?"
"No Sir."
"Well that can change your offense from a misdemeanor to a crime real quick. Next thing you know, whatever else you got in your van will make it worse. There better not be anything else in that vehicle."
"It's just chocolate Sir, check it out for yourself." He opened the bottle and sniffed.
"Damn, that is nice. This was grown in Missouri. I can tell. I used to run this shit."
"...okay..." I was gonna let him tell it. The male ranger deemed my van clean and came back over.
"Look at this," the cop showed the ranger my chocolate and asked him if he wanted any. There was some nervous laughter and the cop continued to explain how it must have been packaged and how old it was.
"It's called Trainwreck," I couldn't help myself. I mentioned I got the bottle from California, where it was legal, and that I was frustrated Missouri laws had not progressed to that point...yet. They conversed about how crazy it was that now you could just walk into shops on the beach and buy chocolate legally.
"Do you have any kids?" the cop asked.
"Yes, three." They collectively paused for five seconds.
"Do we need to call your wife or anyone to explain why you're going to be late?" asked the male ranger.
"No."
"He's clear," said the female ranger, coming back from the dispatch. There was another collective silence.
"We think you would be better off at home with your kids than going to Clayton Jail," said the male ranger. "but you can't eat chocolate in our park. We're going to give you a warning, and one warning only. Don't be coming back here with your chocolate, or next time we're taking you in."
"Thanks guys," I said. "Can I have my chocolate back?"
"No...thank you," said the cop. The rangers chuckled and followed him back to their cars.
That's life in Brentwood...MO that is.
"Why are you in the park so late?" asked the white, male ranger.
"I come here every other day to write and listen to music. I thought the park was open 'a half-hour after dark'. Is it not?"
"The sign says the park closes 'a half-hour after sunset'," his darker, female partner informed me, "but why did you go around the other sign saying ONLY AUTHORIZED VEHICLES BEYOND THIS POINT?" She was referring to the park closing the main road to traffic, so they could install their famous Christmas lights.
"I didn't read it that carefully cause I followed another car in, so I assumed since it wasn't blocked off, it wasn't a big deal."
"We're still gonna need to check you're ID."
As I sat waiting for my license to clear, I considered tossing the last, little, less than a gram of chocolate out the window, just in case, you know, they decided to be assholes and bust me. I considered it...but I was a bit curious to see if they would try to bust me, since contraband chocolate is finally becoming accepted as our American right...at least by the intelligent folk.
Five minutes later a police car shows up. A cop gets out and makes a beeline for me...oh well.
"Alright sir, we know this vehicle contains contraband chocolate, so it's in your best interest for to tell us exactly where it is right now before you get into further trouble." Wow, I guess I had forgotten how pungent this particular chocolate is. I told him where I kept it, and the male ranger went looking for it (and through the rest of my van), while the female ranger ran my license.
"Are you carrying any other drugs, like heroin, meth, cocaine or crack?"
"No Sir...just chocolate."
"If you're hiding anything, we will find out, and you will be prosecuted more severely for withholding information."
"I said, just chocolate Sir." He had me stand back from the van, then he reprimanded me for standing too far from the van. He was very intense and aggressive. I knew I had done nothing wrong, so I waited. Finally he opened up my chocolate carry case: a prescription bottle made specifically for medicinal chocolate.
"Do you know it's a felony to use a prescription bottle with no sticker on it?"
"No Sir."
"Well that can change your offense from a misdemeanor to a crime real quick. Next thing you know, whatever else you got in your van will make it worse. There better not be anything else in that vehicle."
"It's just chocolate Sir, check it out for yourself." He opened the bottle and sniffed.
"Damn, that is nice. This was grown in Missouri. I can tell. I used to run this shit."
"...okay..." I was gonna let him tell it. The male ranger deemed my van clean and came back over.
"Look at this," the cop showed the ranger my chocolate and asked him if he wanted any. There was some nervous laughter and the cop continued to explain how it must have been packaged and how old it was.
"It's called Trainwreck," I couldn't help myself. I mentioned I got the bottle from California, where it was legal, and that I was frustrated Missouri laws had not progressed to that point...yet. They conversed about how crazy it was that now you could just walk into shops on the beach and buy chocolate legally.
"Do you have any kids?" the cop asked.
"Yes, three." They collectively paused for five seconds.
"Do we need to call your wife or anyone to explain why you're going to be late?" asked the male ranger.
"No."
"He's clear," said the female ranger, coming back from the dispatch. There was another collective silence.
"We think you would be better off at home with your kids than going to Clayton Jail," said the male ranger. "but you can't eat chocolate in our park. We're going to give you a warning, and one warning only. Don't be coming back here with your chocolate, or next time we're taking you in."
"Thanks guys," I said. "Can I have my chocolate back?"
"No...thank you," said the cop. The rangers chuckled and followed him back to their cars.
That's life in Brentwood...MO that is.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
