Hell's Kitchen gay bar bends to neighborhood pressure

I take no responsibility for how you interpret that headline. Hot gay sports bar Boxers is considering keeping the doors on its new Hell's Kitchen spot closed until 4:00 pm, 'cause the temptation might be too great for the kiddies at Sacred Heart . . .

From DNAinfo.com:

HELL'S KITCHEN — Boxers may only ope
n after the school bell rings.
At a tense meeting with the local block association, the owners of a proposed Hell's Kitchen gay sports bar said they are considering keeping the bar closed when a nearby school is open.

The owners of Boxers NYC in Chelsea agreed to open the main floor of their proposed Hell's Kitchen outpost at 1 p.m. at a meeting with the Community Board 4 Business Licenses and Permits Committee earlier this month. The bar's rooftop patio would open later on school days, at 4 p.m.

[SNIP]

Many angry and vocal residents voiced their concerns about the controversial bar, repeating that they don't want it near two schools in the area. The building used by the bar would be across from Sacred Heart of Jesus School, and abut the PS 111's playground.

I’ll have another Dina Martina, please

Last night we went to see Dina Martina at the Laurie Beechman Theater, our second time this year. I’d happened upon her by accident and she looked interesting, so off we went back in the spring (or maybe last fall, I seem to remember her talking about having just finished her summer run in Provincetown then, too; time is so elusive). This is a wonderfully weird performer, not to be categorized with drag at all, in my opinion. Dina Martina is something altogether different, and belongs in a category of her own. And so connected is the performer (Grady West) with the creation that I can’t think of her as him or of Dina as someone who made her up.

Alan Cumming was sitting at the next table, just throwing that out. He had a baseball cap on at first and I said to Frank, “I think that’s Alan Cumming.” The cap came off and I was right. He was at a table with three other men and from what I could tell he enjoyed the show.

Dina was as strange as ever. She likes to wear dresses that can’t be zipped in the back, so you see this bizarre female character with a hairy back. Nothing else fits, including the smear of lipstick. This show was more songs than the last, and I think I liked the first show better . Not sure why. She came down into the audience a lot last night, and sang one song to the back of my head. She seems to specialize in singing familiar songs with completely made-up lyrics. Very funny indeed, and I love the Laurie Beechman, a great space for this sort of thing. If you get a chance to see Dina Martina, put her on your list. She’s not something you’ll find yourself describing easily.

Mississippi hate-crime victim’s partner ignored

Cross-posted from lgbtSr.com

Fucked up.

This story was all over the news a couple weeks ago, complete with video of a black being beaten and run over by a truck. What many people may not know is that he was also gay, and the mistreatment of his partner is yet another horrific reminder of our inequality in the eyes of the law.

From Good Politics:

When a pack of white teenagers beat 48-year-old James Craig Anderson within an inch of his life and then finished the job by running him over with a truck in June, they did so because Anderson was black. What the Jackson, Mississippi auto plant worker's attackers didn't know is that he was also gay, and that when he died that night he left behind a 4-year-old daughter and a partner of nearly 20 years, James Bradfield.

[SNIP]

With the help of attorney Morris Dees, founder of the Southern Poverty Law Center, Anderson's family has filed a wrongful-death lawsuit against the teenagers who brutalized him that night. A glaring omission from the plaintiff list in that case is Bradfield. Despite the fact that Anderson spent more than half his adult life with Bradfield by his side, under Mississippi law, same-sex partners have no claim in civil actions.

Are religious people dickheads?

I went to church last week to see my favorite pastor, but it doesn't stop me from appreciating this sign of the day. Or maybe the month. Found here.

So you wanna be a standup comedy dropout

Cross-posted from lgbtSr.com

I signed up for a standup comedy class because I thought it would be fun and something to write about. After two classes I discovered another important lesson (besides going for the things we want to do in life): it’s okay to quit.

I’m not a performer. Or, rather, I perform in isolation, at a keyboard. I’ve been a writer since childhood and continue to experience writing as a passion. But to get up and “do what I do” in front of people has always been a bit paralyzing. And while I was having a lot of fun coming up with a standup comedy routine, I was finding my Wednesdays filled with dread instead of pleasure at the thought of class that night.

It also gave me the opportunity to look at how much I operate based on what I assume to be other people’s expectations of me. I was about to keep going because I thought the friends I’d invited to the graduation show would be disappointed if I told them I’d dropped out of class. It dredged up a lot of very old, very deep issues about being a disappointment, or assuming I was viewed that way, or, worst of all, viewing myself that way.

There is nothing whatsoever wrong with trying something, realizing it’s not right for you, and walking cleanly away. I took this class, as mentioned, in large part so I could write about it for this site and encourage others to go out and do things they wanted to try. And now, with this particular stress out of my life, I can say it’s fine to taste-test and, if the taste it not so sweet, move on. Yes, I’m a standup comedy class dropout. But I did it, I tried it, and now it’s on to something else.

Archbishop Dolan says gay marriage could wipe out human race

Dolan with main squeeze

This prick doesn't give up, does he? I have to chuckle at the assertion that same-sex marriage is a grave threat to the species. Apparently a relative handful of gay marriages might put an end to the relentless procreation of seven billion people.

From the Poughkeepsie Journal:

Marriage was defined as the union between one man and one woman at a panel presentation at the Bardavon 1869 Opera House on Monday in the City of Poughkeepsie.

New York Archbishop Timothy Dolan was joined by local religious leaders and scholars in a talk titled "The Ring Makes a Difference."

Dolan said the defense of marriage was not simply a religious issue, but an American issue.

He defined marriage as a "natural law" created by God for the purpose of procreating children.

"Anything that tampers with this natural law places the human race in peril," he said, addressing a crowd of about 800 people.

Surprise weekend - South Street Seaport

Cross-posted from lgbtSr.com

Frank and I just had one of our regular “surprise weekends,” when one of us lines up a weekend of events (dinner, massage, theater) and the other doesn’t know what they are until we get there. It’s a great way to keep things interesting. We take turns, and this past weekend was Franks’ turn to surprise me. It stared with dinner Friday at one of my favorite neighborhood restaurants, Bistro Lamazou (3rd Avenue and 26th), followed by a show at the New York Comedy Club. That was completely unexpected but appropriate, given that I’m taking a standup comedy class!

Saturday was a massage at a day spa and dinner at yet another favorite, Parea Bistro. And then, the topping on the sundae – a total surprise visit to South Street Seaport. The Seaport is one of those “tourist destinations” I never get to but always have on my list. That happens when you live in a city: you probably don’t get out to see the highlights until someone visits and you’re showing them around. I’m like a kid in a candy store at the South Street Seaport. Water, ships, shops and lots of people.

Continue reading

Self portrait with massage table

More self portraits here.

Surprise weekend video clip

Clown costume gets an update

This shit is just sad.

Elizabeth Warren shows us what a fighter looks like

Awesome.

Bumper sticker love

Ding dong, DADT is dead

Well, that was very, very much ado about nothing. The shock waves from the repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell ought to rise to just about the level of a fart. Meanwhile, one navy officer made a lovely statement and got married as the clock struck midnight.

I haven't been posting much here. There's just too much going on, between taking a standup comedy class and working to re-launch lgbtSr.com at a new home with a new look. But I'll be back. We have one of our surprise weekends coming up, and Frank picked all the surprises. I'll have something to write about soon enough.

Man goes on trial for stabbing mom over Avril Lavigne tickets

A concert to die for

Another story from the traditional family files.

From the Chicago Tribune:

Robert Lyons wanted his mother to pull strings to get him skybox seats for an Avril Lavigne concert, but when she refused, he savagely attacked her and stabbed her to death, prosecutors said Wednesday on the first day of Lyons' murder trial.

A DuPage County jury began hearing the case against Lyons, 39, accused of first-degree murder in the March 14, 2008, slaying of his mother, Linda Bolek, in the kitchen of the Carol Stream condominium where both lived.

Reportedly upset that Bolek, 61, would not call her friend to see if Lyons could use the friend's skybox to see the singer Lavigne, Lyons struck his mother in the head with a bottle of cognac, stabbed her nine times in the back and then dumped household cleaning solutions on her dead body, according to prosecutors.

"This defendant was so angry with his mother that he bludgeoned her and repeatedly stabbed her in a fit of rage," Assistant DuPage County State's Attorney Ann Celine O'Hallaren told jurors in her opening statement.

"Never, ever complaining" in the face of fear and death

Cross-posted from lgbtSr.com

I recently read about a writer’s sister dying from cancer. He’d posted about it on his blog, including shortly after she passed away. It was quite sad, and I was immediately struck by his comment that she “never, ever complained.”

I don’t mean to take away from this heartbreak in the least. I lost many a friend whose life ended prematurely, sadly and painfully, including a partner. I lost my mother, whose death from lung cancer was devastating, to her as much as to anyone in her life. She, too, “never, ever complained,” except in her most honest moments, when she hated dying and was furious that she could not beat it this time.

We often hear this “never, ever complains” observation about people who, we tell ourselves, bear up under great pain and stress, as if expressing their suffering would somehow make us think less of them. The idea of not complaining, no matter how much pain, fear or anger we have at, say, imminent death, is at its heart a succor to those who are not dying. The truth is, we don't want to hear the complaints. We don't want to be reminded that cancer is agonizing and death is frightening, so we tell ourselves that there is something noble in "never, ever complaining," when in fact it deprives the person dying of their final cri de coeur.

If I again find myself loving someone who is dying in pain, I hope she will scream its injustice. I hope he will tell me how frightened he is, how broken his heart at leaving those he loves. I hope she will tell me, as my mother did, “I’m SO MAD!” and that she will not hesitate to cry out my name in the middle of the night.

And if I find myself dying, I will complain. If the pain is unbearable, I will tell you. If the sense of loss at leaving you is beyond expression, I will cry and tell you words cannot possibly do the job. For if you are leaving me and you never, ever complain, your heart has missed its chance to speak freely with me one last time.

G.O.P. now officially a party of thugs

If it's not religious thuggery, it's "beat them in the head until their brains spill out" violence.

This is what passes for pleasant fantasy on the right.

From Robert Stacy McCain:

New York Post, Oct. 6, 2011
PAPA GRIZZLY
Author of Palin Smear Book Hospitalized,
Todd Charged After ‘Brutal’ NY Assault

Joe McGinniss underwent emergency surgery Wednesday night after police say the author was beaten senseless by Republican presidential candidate Sarah Palin’s husband Todd at a Manhattan party where McGinniss was signing copies of his new book about the former Alaska governor.

“It was one of the most brutal attacks I’ve ever seen,” said Venona Wineglass, who was waiting in line to get her copy of the controversial anti-Palin book signed at the Upper West Side reception when, she said, Todd “came out of nowhere” and began punching McGinniss. “He was just like bam, bam, bam, and it took three guards to pull him off.”

While police charged Todd Palin with assault and resisting arrest, his wife was campaigning in South Carolina, two weeks after officially announcing her GOP presidential candidacy.

Sarah Palin's NBA connection

How could I not?

Gospel squad invades Vanderbilt bacchanal, demands wine be turned back into water

Brownie points for the Lord.

Rep. Joe Walsh too busy tweeting Obama hate to show up for child support hearing

Tea Party darling Joe Walsh shows off his tweet whitener

Just when you think you’ve scraped the bottom of the scum pond. Deadbeat dad and national disgrace Joe Walsh, the U.S. Representative best known for tweeting that he wouldn’t attend the President’s speech to Congress, failed to show at a hearing for back child support to the tune of $100,000. And this is the soul of the Tea Party.

From WLS:

CHICAGO (WLS) - A judge in Chicago issued a preliminary ruling Wednesday against U.S. Rep. Joe Walsh in the Tea Party favorite’s child-support dispute with his ex-wife, ordering him to explain why he appears to be $100,000 behind on child-support payments, the Sun-Times is reporting.

Cook County Circuit Judge Raul Vega also wanted to know why Walsh wasn’t in court for the hearing — the McHenry Republican’s ex-wife, Laura Walsh was — and said he expects him to show up at the next hearing, in November.

Walsh’s new attorney, Janet Boyle, asked Vega “for what purpose” he wanted the congressman in court.

Vega gave her a puzzled look.

To which Boyle responded: “Mr. Walsh is a U.S. congressman.”

“Well, he’s no different than anyone else,” the judge said.

Why couldn’t Ron Paul’s church save his ex-campaign manager?

I haven’t the slightest idea why people like Ron Paul, and I’m quite sure he’d lose a great many fans if they actually lived in a country governed by his ideas. In the debate Monday night he said he’d been a doctor when people cared for each other, including churches, not relying on the government. Sorry, but I don’t plan on going to my pastor when my spleen needs to be removed.

As it turns out, something very similar to the scenario he responded to actually happened to his ex-campaign manager. The family was hit with a $400,000 medical bill and the guy died anyway. I hope it struck a chord for Ron when the crowd cheered him on to let the man die.

From the HuffPost:

WASHINGTON -- When CNN's Wolf Blitzer pressed Rep. Ron Paul (R-Texas) over what he would do if a 30-year-old uninsured man suddenly slipped into a coma and needed care, he did so, in all likelihood, not knowing just how personal a question it was for the Texas Republican.

Paul's 2008 campaign manager, Kent Snyder, went through a strikingly similar experience to Blitzer's hypothetical one, dying of complications from viral pneumonia just two weeks after Paul ended his presidential bid. Snyder was uninsured, so family and friends were forced to raise funds to cover his $400,000 in medical bills. Their efforts included setting up a website soliciting contributions from Paul supporters.

The episode reflects what Paul himself argued should be the free-market ideal for health insurance policy. During Monday night's GOP primary debate, the libertarian Republican made the case that health insurance coverage was a choice. If one decided to forgo it, he ran the risk of mounting bills. If a patient was on his deathbed, it wasn't the taxpayers' responsibility to pick up that tab.

Tea Party cheers: Let the uninsured die!

Yeehaw! In case they run out of people to execute (that one got the biggest applause at the last debate as the crowd found the number of executions in Texas quite pleasing), now they can hoot 'n holler as the uninsured die. I vote for children first!

Bicycles with attitude

L.K. Thayer poetry reading

Awesome. You'll see an interview coming soon with L.K. Thayer over at lgbtSr.com, which is about to get a fabulous relaunch.

NYC ice cream icon Serendipity to host séance

I guess they got rid of the rat turds.

From PR Newswire:

NEW YORK, Sept. 12, 2011 -- /PRNewswire/ -- Internationally renowned psychic-intuitive-medium Char Margolis will be leading a seance to contact the spirits of Serendipity past. The landmark NYC restaurant, founded in 1954, has been fodder for celebrity gossip dating back to Cary Grant and Grace Kelly, who were there on a tryst, to Andy Warhol using the restaurant as his living room. Margolis hopes to reach the many bold-faced names that frequented the restaurant including Warhol, Elizabeth Taylor, Clark Gable, Dennis Hopper, Mae West, Marilyn Monroe, Bette Davis, Marlene Dietrich, John Lennon, John Kennedy Jr., Jackie O and many more.

The event, which takes place on September 15th - the restaurant's 57th anniversary, hopes to attract family members, co-stars, and other people connected to the stars to help make contact with the departed spirits. In addition to the guests, Serendipity will have many celebrity artifacts that will help act as conduits to reach the spirits. Items such as Andy Warhol's signed life insurance policy, Clark Gable's GQ Award, Jimmy Cagney's SAG card, Mae West's signed movie contract, an autographed photo of Marlene Dietrich, and an original Marilyn Monroe Look Magazine newsstand poster will be displayed at the restaurant, all courtesy of Gotta Have It!

Walking the Highline (NYC)

We finally made it.

Finally an interesting street fair

If it's summer in Manhattan there's a street fair somewhere. This morning we found one a block from the apartment, when we headed out to walk the Highline for the first time, only to discover it was raining. No Highline today, but we did take a stroll through the street fair.

I'm not a fan of them. Mostly it seems like stalls of crap interspersed with stalls of food crap, and when Frank suggested we find something to eat there I took us to the Bluebell Cafe instead. Then, having had breakfast and not being hungry, we started seeing some really interesting items and food on offer at the fair. Who knew! We could have had Korean food, waist-busting gourmet mac and cheese, crab cakes. I don't remember ever seeing such interesting things at a street fair. We did buy some lobster bisque on the way home to have with dinner. The next time I'll wait and see what's there.

NC Senator says homos die younger so he loves them even more

One-time lesbian supermodel has two days to live

Shit ignorance makes my head spin – if it weren’t so predictable.

From ThinkProgress:

Five North Carolina state lawmakers held a town hall Thursday night to discuss the pending constitutional amendments the legislature is scheduled to take-up next week, including one measure to outlaw same-sex marriage. A majority of North Carolinians say they oppose changing the constitution but that didn’t stop state Sen. James Forrester (R) — who is also a medical doctor — from describing homosexuality as an “unhealthy lifestyle” and urging gay people to “change their lifestyle” back “to the normal lifestyle we can accept“:

FORRESTER: I’ve got a few homosexual patients and I treat them just the same as anybody else. I love them perhaps even more because I know they are going to die at least 20 years earlier and it’s something I have no control over and we need to reach out to them to try to get them to change their lifestyle and back to the normal lifestyle which we can accept.

Adam tries to screw Porshe, Jordan gets shaft instead – YES!

Porsche, right, saves Rachel in late-game shocker

Fine, I’m a Big Brother junkie, so what. I was losing interest fast as it appeared Rachel and Jordan would end up at the top, along with the loser Adam, who has done nothing but suck ass all season to try and end up third, as if that were the goal. So I go ahead and fall asleep last night, figuring after Obama’s speech there was just no point in staying conscious. (More on that in the coming months: light the fire, folks! The GOP’s continued disgraceful, open show of contempt for a sitting president brings into focus the need to kick take these arrogant bastards down.)

Anyway . . . just now I go online and discover – shock! – America’s sweetheart, having gotten there solely through being sweet and cute, got the axe! Poor thing won’t be taking home another half million. The evil Porsche won the power of veto, saved herself, and evicted Jordan in a twist for the ages. Thank god we taped it!

Please, please, please let Adam be the next out. It will make the jury voting very interesting, given that half of them are in one alliance and the others in the other! Head spinning yet? That’s what makes the show fun.

Is it September 12th yet?

Cross-posted from lgbtSr.com

For the record: I had been at my job only six weeks when I came to work on that beautiful, crystalline September morning. After getting coffee in the cafeteria, I came to the newsroom and saw people gathered at the northwest corner of the 19th floor. It was happening. I called my boss who was in London and told him that apparently a small plane had hit the World Trade Center. It was happening. No one knew that early how deep, long and dark was the shadow about to spread over this city and this country. Within an hour we watched the tours fall. It had happened.

I wonder, if we lived in a culture that marked significant chunks of time in eight year cycles instead of ten – call it on ‘Octade’ – would we finally be moving on from the annual re-visitation of grief that takes place every September 11? Would we have managed to stop calling the site of the World Trade Center ‘Ground Zero,’ as if there has never been another one? Or will tourists forever after be asking those of us who live here for directions to Ground Zero, with their strange mix of fascination, awe and relief they can go home soon, having snapped a shot of themselves there where the unimaginable struck and America changed for the worse.

Yes, the worse. It is my opinion that a once-in-a-nation’s-lifetime opportunity to unite and finally, truly, be one people, was squandered in favor of political power and advantage. Muslims were blamed for the acts of fanatics, while I have yet to hear Christianity being held accountable for the terror at women’s health clinics or the slaughter brought by Timothy McVeigh (we’ll discard for the sake of this argument the centuries of murder and oceans of blood already spilled by that religion, of which I count myself a tenuous member). We saw a surplus of treasure taken by the truckload from average Americans and transferred with glee to those who already have more than they will ever spend. (Note to the woman I saw on a TV segment decrying the “distribution of wealth” (surely the poor sap meant “redistribution,” even as she declared herself a “constitutional conservative”) – it has already happened, and your pockets were the ones that have been emptied.) We saw two wars started, while Americans were told to go shopping. I actually did! I bought a new sofa the same week we first bombed Afghanistan, and while I must admit it felt good, in hindsight it is disgraceful.

By the way, LGBT people died that day, quite a few of us, but you won’t hear Matt Lauer mentioning that, even when the mother of Todd Beamer is interviewed.

We cling to our grief. We cherish not just the memories of those we’ve loved and lost, but, if we are honest, the very comforting self-indulgence of our own mourning, which we dutifully resurrect each year. At some point it will end. How many people mark the bombing of Pearl Harbor every year? Not many, and as with that attack on our country, so, too, 9/11 will dwindle year after year until only a handful of us who were here are alive to pay tribute.

There’s nothing wrong with paying tribute, nothing wrong with remembering. I remember a good many friends and one dear partner who died in the AIDS years. Oh, right, we don’t really hear much about that anymore. We’re beyond it. The plague has moved on to Africa, and we have moved on to an even more shining moment of horror, something much more traditional and family-oriented. Something the kids can enjoy.

So you wanna be a standup comic

Cross-posted from lgbtSr.com, where I'll be making a weekly videoblog of my experiences taking a six-week standup comedy class. We'll end with a live performance at Caroline's Comedy Club and I'll clip that if they let me. If not I'll have one of my invited guests make a bootleg. Yes, a bootleg.

Relatives throw woman’s body in basement, go out for pizza

Mom's in the basement, check the trash bags

I just can’t get enough of that traditional family love.

From Wisconsin State Journal:

When Mary Coleman died in May 2009, two days after she fell to the floor at her sister's house, her sister and nephew decided there was nothing they could do about it and went out for pizza.

Then, according to a criminal complaint filed Tuesday, Veronica King and her son, Steven King, kept Coleman's death a secret, hiding her body in the basement and then the garage of the house on Whenona Drive until Madison police found her mummified remains more than three months later.

Steven and Veronica King told police that Coleman, 70, had fallen down in a bedroom on May 7, 2009, then lay there, talking now and then, until her death. "I told her quite frankly to shut up because that old woman in the backyard" would call the police, Steven King told police, according to the complaint.

Still panicked in needle park: NYC heroin mills feed city's insatiable habit

So young. So dead.

A new business model is keeping up with NYC's high heroin demand.

From the HuffPost:

Recent raids by the special prosecutor, DEA, New York Police Department and New York State Police have resulted in multiple arrests and larger and larger seizures. They've also given colorful insight into current operations.

One mill was located in a newly renovated apartment in midtown Manhattan that rented for $3,800 a month and was mere blocks from Times Square and Broadway theaters. Workers there used coffee grinders to cut the drug. They then filled glassines stamped with the brand names "Jersey Boys" – title of a hit musical – and "95 South" – a reference to the interstate served by the nearby Lincoln Tunnel.

[SNIP]

The DEA has seized about 205 pounds of heroin in New York City and the rest of the state so far this year, a pace that would eclipse the 278 pounds total last year and the 169 pounds in 2009. The seizures this year have accounted for a quarter of those for the entire nation.

Bowling bliss

Everybody needs a happy photo

NYC snobs say they won't date someone from Staten Island

I lived in Queens for eight years so I know what snobs Manhattanites can be. But I never imagined four boroughs would turn their noses up at the fifth.

From silive.com:

STATEN ISLAND, N.Y. --Hey, New York, where's the love?

That's what Staten Islanders will be wondering when they hear that nobody from the other boroughs thinks it's worth traveling to the outermost borough to date someone.

Web dating site Match.com surveyed more than 1,000 city singles on their dating preferences, and discovered that just 8 percent of singles from Manhattan, the Bronx and Queens would be willing to make the trek here to go out on a date.

The artist formerly known as perfume: judge orders Prince to pay up

From the Washington Post:

NEW YORK — A New York court says Prince should pay almost $4 million to a perfume company that claimed he hobbled its efforts to market a perfume named for one of his albums.

A court referee recommended a roughly $3.95 million award last week. The award would have to be confirmed by another judge.

little basil Thai restaurant a tasty four yums (NYC)

Awhile back I'd impulsively deleted 2700 posts from MadeMark, wanting to change the tone of this blog. Had I thought it through I would have been more selective and kept the many (many) items I liked, especially the travel posts and reviews. On the other hand, there are those Buddhist monks who spend endless hours making sand paintings they then simply wipe away. There's something in that.

We headed two blocks over from home last night to try out a Thai restaurant called little basil (lower case), located at 153 E. 26th Street. Frank had a 15-percent off coupon, and we both thought it was a new place. Turns out it's been there for three years and I'm surprised we'd never eaten there before. It was amazing.

Oddly for a Friday night (and an establishment that's been there three years!) we were the only people eating in the restaurant. Quite a few were stopping in to pick up orders to take home, and we'll be one of them soon.

The decor is nice enough, a lot of dark wood with distressed tables, the kind that look like they were bought in a lot from a restaurant that didn't make it. The staff was minimal but very nice, and once the food started arriving . . . mmmm. We started with the Tom Kha soup (coconut milk soup with chicken, kaffir lime leaf and galangal). I was surprised Frank was unfamiliar with it. It was delicious and plentiful, in a large bowl we shared. Then came the chicken satay and steamed vegetable rolls. Common, you say? Sure, but uncommonly good, delicate, perfectly prepared and beautifully presented. Entrees were Pad Thai and Pad Med Mamong (vegetables sauteed with cashew nuts, bamboo shoots and mushrooms in brown sauce). Dessert was a tasting of ice creams: green tea, red bean, and coconut.

What makes the difference here is the sheer perfection of the food. I can see why so many locals were stopping to take it home. Who knows why there weren't more people there, and who cares. If you like Thai food, little basil is a must, it's simply among the best I've ever had, elevating to a four yum rating. Oh, and it was one of the more affordable restaurants we've eaten in: $67 for both of us. You can't beat that.

Ratings are based on one-to-five yums, one being don't waste your time or money, five being the best you're likely to find.

'Boardwalk Empire' to sponsor this year's NYC nostalgia trains

I'd never heard of them before, but they sound fun if you can catch one.

From SecondAvenueSagas:

"Starting on Saturday, September 3rd an authentic vintage 1920’s train will run on the express 2/3 track in Manhattan throughout September (specifically, from 12 to 6 p.m. on Saturdays and Sundays). Originally operated by the Interborough Rapid Transit (IRT) system, the train began service back in 1917 and will once again be operational. Customers who have the opportunity to ride the vintage train will be transported back in time to the Prohibition era with authentic details such as rattan seats, ceiling fans and drop sash windows, as well as a custom branded interior featuring Boardwalk Empire-inspired period artwork."

For the weekend of the premier — September 24 and 25 — so-called “brand ambassadors” will be giving away free MetroCards as well. HBO is apparently going all out, and as you can see from the image above, the faux-vintage ads in the Nostalgia Train cars have given way to Boardwalk Empire branding.

The NRA supported gun control until the Black Panthers had them

I’ll be there aren’t many people who know that conservatives, and specifically the NRA, were once strong advocated for gun control. This changed when they saw mean scary black men taking up arms.

From The Atlantic:

In the 1920s and ’30s, the NRA was at the forefront of legislative efforts to enact gun control. The organization’s president at the time was Karl T. Frederick, a Princeton- and Harvard-educated lawyer known as “the best shot in America”—a title he earned by winning three gold medals in pistol-shooting at the 1920 Summer Olympic Games. As a special consultant to the National Conference of Commissioners on Uniform State Laws, Frederick helped draft the Uniform Firearms Act, a model of state-level gun-control legislation. (Since the turn of the century, lawyers and public officials had increasingly sought to standardize the patchwork of state laws. The new measure imposed more order—and, in most cases, far more restrictions.)

Then along came Bobby Seale and . . . Whitey got his gun.

Guns became central to the Panthers’ identity, as they taught their early recruits that “the gun is the only thing that will free us—gain us our liberation.” They bought some of their first guns with earnings from selling copies of Mao Zedong’s Little Red Book to students at the University of California at Berkeley. In time, the Panther arsenal included machine guns; an assortment of rifles, handguns, explosives, and grenade launchers; and “boxes and boxes of ammunition,” recalled Elaine Brown, one of the party’s first female members, in her 1992 memoir. Some of this matériel came from the federal government: one member claimed he had connections at Camp Pendleton, in Southern California, who would sell the Panthers anything for the right price. One Panther bragged that, if they wanted, they could have bought an M48 tank and driven it right up the freeway.