Blogger dinner

It's late and so I wont say much, just this: I had a really tough day and it would have been a hell of a lot tougher had it not been for the warm and forgiving company of the following bloggers (see photo below).
Thanks. [Yes, they are all wearing Women for Kerry stickers. I made them do it. But they swore that they were voting as if their life depended on it for Kerry anyway.]

all bloggers, all great. 

Which way does the wind blow?

This was the next-to-last Market on the Square this year, but already you could see signs of closure for the season: a number of farmers don’t show up when the weather gets this cold and the wind kicks up to a gale force. And the crowds diminish as well. Who wants to be out and about on a day when the weather cannot make up its mind, alternating between drizzle and sunshine? Another one of those Wisconsin undecided moments, swinging between dark clouds and blue – bright blue – skies.

Seasonal touches:

croissants at L'Etoile: these are pumpkin and dark chocolate 

the L'Etoile cart 

the kind of 'green' that's easy to love this year 

She told me "I bet I get in trouble with the Market administrators for the signs, but I don't care." 

When asked if he could tell the political inclinations of his pumpkins, the farmer answered -- well, there are always those growing to the left and to the right of the vine, so yeah, he could tell. 

Fourth street pre-election diary*

4th against a sobering mural: a reminder of what 'drives' so many to take excessive steps, be it in the northern wilderness or across the ocean 

Musings just four days before...

Remember when the mere mention of the KGB produced an almost visceral reaction of fear and revulsion? Good olds days! Fear in the abstract!

Today you can get a cheap, strong drink and attend a literary event at the KGB Bar on east 4th and rub shoulders with writers who read “to an adoring public with pleasure and without pay.” (New York Magazine and the Village Voice say it’s the best literary venue in the city.)

The KGB is a fairly recent addition to the block, opening in a building that once housed the Ukrainian Labor Home. The owner of the bar used to go to the Ukrainian Labor Home as a kid and drink shots of vodka, eat pierogi and listen to his dad’s buddies talk. And talk. And talk. The kid grew up and became a lawyer, the men grew old, he returned to the place and turned it into what it is today.

Moral of the story? Well, there are several:
1. Once you get your JD, you can do any number of things, including opening a literary bar in the East Village.
2. There’s something magical about eating pierogi and kapusniak, downing vodka (or whatever) and listening to people talk.
3. People can laugh about a perceived menace from the past so long as it no longer is perceived as a viable threat.

I am hoping that someday I am going to laugh my brains out about Bush. Ha ha ha, remember when I worried that he would create havoc and destruction here and abroad? Ha ha ha, wasn’t he a hilarious political figure? Ha ha ha.

Today, all one can do on a somber afternoon is go sit at Cuppa Cuppa (next door to the KGB), swirl coffee in a mug and admire the window postings: ‘see this musical performance,’ ‘go check out that theater across the street,’ and ‘vote for Kerry and Edwards.’

[Not to let my excitement get the better of me, but if you watched the Lehrer hour last night, you will have heard the suggestion that the Midwest is going to provide one hell of a surprise come November 2nd. One that Kerry will very much like. Eeeeeee-haw!]

(*see “forty-second street pre-election diary” post, September 22, for explanation of post title)

Once a place with a rich communist-era history, now a bar with a sense of humor and serious respect for art and literature. 

A favorite spot in the East Village, for many reasons