All of my life, I’ve been a “big guy.” I’m tall, I’ve never been small in any regard, and as I’m sure many of you reading this will understand, it’s something that you have to keep an eye on. Part of it is genetics, an accident of birth. Part of it is bad decisions on my part, or on the part of the people responsible for me at the time.
But I’m an adult now (a reasonably sized and fairly attractive one, if I must say so myself) and it’s time to talk about gustatory habits, some of which made me the fat kid years ago.
I have become obsessed with one simple concept, and it has come out here recently, and will come out again in a more fully realized format soon. But it is basically the simple, simple idea that LESS. IS. MORE. Fewer bites, more flavor, more enjoyment. (That idea doesn’t just apply to food, by the way. It also applies to words. But more on that some other day.)
I love food, and I love cooking. And I love television. So guess what? When I have time to decide what to do next, I might most likely decide to watch a cooking show.
I’ve watched cooking shows for years. I learned the basics of cooking 25 years ago from David Rosengarten and Sara Moulton. Then Emeril, then Alton.
Then, at some point, cooking seemed to change from finesse to sheer volume. From “flavor” to “filling the plate.” Continue reading
What exactly is the “Louisville sound,” if there even is such a thing?
I have no idea. I strongly doubt that it is any one particular thing. But one person who has always been a driving force in Louisville music is the great Peter Searcy, who is my guest on this episode. (In the liner notes to one of the Squirrel Bait records, I think he is kicking something over, very aggressively. I may be wrong, but I bet he doesn’t do that kind of thing very often anymore.)
It’s very interesting now to listen to this and to think about it, because we were all of us teenagers and 20-somethings at some point. And we knew exactly what we were going to do with our lives. Cocky little sons-of-bitches, weren’t we?
And now, if the fates have been kind to us, we are much older than that, and have slightly different perspectives. But Peter is still rocking. He is still a great songwriter, a dog-lover, and an all-around good guy. Please enjoy this chat, and please remember that you matter.
Okay, so I’ve broken from tradition lately. For many, many years, I have worked in public broadcasting, and that meant that I needed to keep my political and personal opinions to myself. That’s what the job entails, and rightfully so.
I’m no longer involved in public broadcasting, and over the last few days, I have shared my opinions. Vented my spleen, you might say.
So today, here is something that is completely non-political. I don’t care what your ideological bent is, there’s no way you can be offended by this, unless you’re offended by really great musicians. Continue reading
It’s the oldest of cliches to say that someone “needs no introduction,” but yet I trotted out that cliche for this episode, because it’s my chat with Barry Bernson. He’s one of a small handful of voices who have defined this region’s identity, and yet, he still manages to be a really nice guy. And he’s doing really interesting things.
So please enjoy my chat with “Mister Bernson.” And remember that you matter. You can always reach me via email.
My oldest son has, lately, acquired an obsession with vinyl records. He’s barely a teenager, but he would spend every waking moment poring through vinyl stacks if he could. (I can’t get him to take 5 minutes to load the dishwasher, but he would willingly spend 50 minutes bent over a pile of albums for sale.)
I can’t really complain about this. There are far worse vices for a child, and if my boy is drawn to records? I thank my lucky stars.
But last night, he brought me something that unearthed memories I had long forgotten. He brought me my vinyl copy of the soundtrack from the movie “A Clockwork Orange.”
Jesus christ. Continue reading
I’ve known Dave for many years. I have had the pleasure of making him dinner, of watching movies with him, of arguing about movies with him.
We used to be minimum-wage clerks side-by-side at a video store in the Highlands of Louisville. Today, he is one of the frontrunners of arguably the biggest and most important modeling and hobby expo in the world, Wonderfest, which takes place right here in June in Louisville.
One thing Dave said to me in this interview stood out: “film was my religion.” This man has always loved the movies, and has always done whatever he could to move them further along.
That, naturally, led us to a conversation about the late, lamented Vogue Theater. And just how much times have changed since it closed its doors.
We can watch a movie on our phone now. But honestly … do you want to? Or would you rather be able to go back to The Vogue?
Please enjoy my conversation with Dave. Please leave some comments. And remember, you matter.
(Photo courtesy of Bill Eichelberger.)