hennajenna

One of my new hobbies in the last year has been brewing beer. It is absolutely one of the most rewarding hobbies because it is creative and makes you slightly intoxicated. But seriously, you get to invent your own beer and reward yourself with the end results (unless it tastes like shite). So, my latest beer is a reddish beer similar to Anchor Steam in hops, but brewed with the techniques used for a Czech Pilsner a la Pilsner Urquell. The technique is called "lagering" and means that you have to let the beer ferment at colder temperatures and longer than normal. My cellar is the perfect temperature, then after bottling it will be moved to the fridge for 4-6 weeks.

My sister helped me out when we made it on Christmas Eve, so due to her red hair and her involvement, it is called Hennajenna Pilsner. It will be bottled next week!

Next up, I have plans for a German Dortmunder and either a Creamy Stout or an Imperial IPA.

This might sound boring, but come over and drink some with me and I can guarantee it will not be a boring night!

dave chappelle is my neighbor

Dave Chappelle, overheard on the street in Yellow Springs, OH:

"When you're climbin' up a ladder
and ya here something splatter...
Diarrhea" Ha...

My family happens to live 5 miles away from Yellow Springs, OH. It's a small eclectic hippie town in the middle of Ohio. Home of the most liberal crew in the Buckeye state, and one of my personal favorite towns, it also happens to be the home of one of the funniest men in the world: Dave Chappelle. I've seen Dave a couple time when stoping through Yellow Springs, and this last time (Jan. 2nd) it was refreshing to see him hanging with the locals and just being a real person. When I lived in L.A., celebs weren't really down with hanging at the coffeshop talking to the locals every day, so props to Dave for shunning the self-absorbed lifestyle and sticking to his roots in a great little town in the middle of the midwest.
Here's another reason Ohio is a great state.

The Godfather of Soul

Yesterday, James Brown passed away. He was a legend. Maybe he had a laundry list of criminal activities, but HE WAS JAMES BROWN! An absolute legend. An American original, and he knew it. He put himself next to Elvis. He wasn't humble, but he was unforgettable. There will never be another man like James Brown.

I was fortunate enough to be in a press conference with 25 others as James Brown was being interviewed in a tent in the sweltering tennessee summer. I have never before witnessed such an event. James Brown was larger than life, he looked at the biggest rock journalists of our day, and belittled them like school children on a playground. It was ridiculous, he turned these men and women into his personal examples of meagerdom. It was an amazing display, as my friend Jessica can attest to. In fact, if you have a chance to rent the Bonnaroo 2003 DVD, watch for me in the white hat and my friend Jess next to me. Here are some samples of his brilliance at work from that press conference in '03.

Rolling Stone Reporter: "Hello Mr Brown, I'm So-and-So from Rolling Stone..." (cut off)
James Brown: SO WHAT!?

USA Today Reporter: "So Mr. Brown, If you go out in the campgrounds, you will find all these hippie kids dancing around to funk and R&B... listening to your music. Have you ever played at such a concert like this?"
James Brown: "YEAH, EVER HEARD OF WOODSTOCK!?"

Billboard Reporter: "Have you thought about your setlist tonight, what will you be playing?"
James Brown: "I DON'T KNOW, HAVEN'T GOT THERE YET!"


There it was, James Brown dismissing reporters like it was his job. It was an amazing place to be that day, one of my favorite moments of living behind the scenes in the music business. They didn't call him the hardest working man in show business for nothing!

Do yourself a favor and download some James Brown today.

Make it funky,
-rustafarian

ps: i believe that is me on the stage balcony - red fro and headband...

merry christmas from colorado!

Because of the Blizzard of '06 (seen below),

Christmas has been cancelled.

Well, not really, but my sister and I are not in Ohio as planned, and instead will be going next weekend. Our flights were cancelled along with everyone else in Colorado. So, without family to spend the holidays with, Jenna and I decided to make a drive up to the mountains and spend Christmas Eve in Breckenridge, and Christmas back in Boulder. Yesterday, we made our way to Breck, did some boarding, then stayed the night in Frisco (pictured above). After some time at the Breckenridge Brewery and meeting some locals in Frisco, we stayed at the Holiday Inn (wishing it had a Holidome with sweet orange carpet, blue walls, and fake ferns), then went to Keystone in the morning to do some more boarding. We suck at boarding, but it's still fun. That was this morning, Christmas Day.

Merry Christmas Everyone, May the Lord give you Peace.
-Rusty

snow graffiti

by rusty.

that's a car, by the way.
yeah, beneath 24 inches of snow...
update 12/22: final count is almost 40 inches of snow!

snow in boulder... 6 inches... 12 inches... 24 ?

"down to earth"

thoughts?

one night in the west village, nyc

Ok, so none of you have a clue about the west village in nyc.
You don't even know. So, know.
Here's a taste of one evening.
More to come later.

Gaetana's. An old italian joint. I walk in the door with my suitcase and the first thing said to me is, "you got a dead body in there or something?". Yeah, mobster hangout. Not like a tourist attraction have fun with the machine gun restaurant. No, it's a place where some hits were carried out back in the day... Hits like 86'd and whacked. Those kind of hits. Think Gotti. Sammy the Bull Gravano. Fuckin' Cosa Nostra. So, Liner works at gaetana's. She runs the place. Everyone there is your best friend. It's the neighborhood hang in the west village. Everyone knows everyone. The owner was buying us drinks before the night was over. I will visit every time I am in New York. Thank you gaetana's.

The Spotted Pig. Ako, Liner, and I hit up the Spotted Pig for a little food. We had the best appetizer I have ever had: dates-filled-with-pear-wrapped-in-bacon-with-dark-asian-sauce. Wow. Burger with roquefort cheese. HEAVENLY. Liner can't eat cheese. But she ate it. It was too delicious. Irrestible. But she got sick. Bummer. Had to go home. She would tell you she should have been doing homework anyway. She's in school. Stay in school. Do the right thing. Liner is always avoiding homework. But she was sick this time. Spotted Pig was righteous. Righteously delicious. And Liner lived to tell about it.

So, liner leaves, and ako and I proceed to go to the Whitehorse tavern and have some drinks. Oldest bar in New York. Drank some Yuengling, a good east coast beer. We're feeling pretty good. We're walking back to liner's and ako sees a Karaoke sign... It's a must stop. She makes the call, just walks in the door like she owns the place. After entering, we realize it's not just a regular karaoke bar.

IT'S A BLACK GAY/LESBIAN KARAOKE BAR. For you politically correct friends... That translates to a HOMOSEXUAL AFRICAN-AMERICAN KARAOKE BAR.

Not that there's anything wrong with that, obviously. But we kind of stick out. Maybe it's our skin tone, sexual orientation, and my crazy red hair?

So, what does one do at a flaming karaoke bar where you are the only white/straight characters in the bar and everyone obviously knows it? Well, make friends, drink, and sing, of course. Ako wasn't shy. Never was, Never will be. She managed to say the following to our friends after several (ahem, several several) straight whiskeys:

"Watch me shake my ass like a black woman"
"My ass isn't bad for a white girl, right?"
"right?"

This is all happening while we are dancing in the bar, grooving to the R&B soul karaoke. Some of our new friends even took the mic and just started going straight church on us. Like, the gospel hand clapping singing amen hollering groove inducing melodies were flowing - screw the karaoke, it was gospel hour. DaMN, IT WAS ON. Everyone is dancing. At this point Ako mentioned that I took her to church one time and she didn't like it, and our soul sister said... "This ain't church - - this is chuuuurch, girl." Oh yes, even in a bar called Rubyfruit you can find some brilliant gospel-soul music. And by the end of the night they were calling me JT because of my ridiculously sweet-ass moves on the dancefloor.

Did you catch that? The bar was called RUBYFRUIT.
We were on the most famous gay-rights street in America.
Are we oblivious?
Maybe, but obliviously enjoying a Friday night in the NYC?
Yes.
Definitely.

my new favorite website

it's the home to all things cool. shoes, art, food, clothes, web links, etc. you might find some ridiculous stuff here and there, but tell me you don't love most of it. you have to check this link:
http://www.joshspear.com/

where else would we find stuff like this?

also, per liner's below comment... more on nyc later.

peace.

the perfect pastrami sandwich

Who really knows how many life-changing pastrami sandwiches are in the world... You know? And for that matter, how many are in the United States? Well, we have a couple factors that influence the answer to this question.

The Goyish Factor. If you know what I'm talking about already, skip to the next point. It really comes down to how many jews are in the neighborhood, because you sure as hell won't find a coma inducing reuben sandwich (that's one brilliant food coma) or hot glistening pastrami in a neighborhood filled with a bunch of gentiles... Know what I'm saying? If you see jews around, you're halfway there.

The Cash Factor. I have yet to find an amazing pastrami sandwich for under $10. If you know of one, let me know. Most pastrami sandwiches of a high caliber will set you back $10.99, maybe even $14. Crazy, you say? Not until you taste it.

The Locale factor. Now, I have heard people talk about Nate and so and so's in Beverly Hills. Granted, the person had no food respect in my book, but really, are you going to find an amazing sandwich in the middle of a bunch of Rolls Royces and breast implants?? That's F*$KiN ridiculous. Absolutely Not. Now, Canter's deli in Los Angeles (on LaBrea) may have a shot because it meets the above criteria, but I still have a place that is better than Canters. Enter NYC. Enter Katz's Deli.

It is the home of the perfect pastrami sandwich. Perfect. And don't forget the Brooklyn-brewed Katz's ale. And the kosher pickles on the side. Did I mention that they carve a couple slices of pastrami for you to taste and approve, then they make your sandwich? Yeah, they're not messing around.

I'm not the first to write about Katz's and I won't be the last, but try it for yourself. I guarantee it will change your life for the better. It's pastrami to live for, I tell ya.

the garden pumpkin gets carved