the cop down on skillman and la vista

 I took my troubles down to Madam Ruth

You know, that gypsy with the gold-capped tooth

She's got a pad down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine

Selling little bottles of Love Potion No. 9

 

I told her that I was a flop with chicks

I've been this way since nineteen fifty-six

She looked at my palm and she made a magic sign

She said, "What you need is Love Potion No. 9" 

She bent down and turned around and gave me a wink

She said "I'm gonna make it up right here in the sink"

It smelled like turpentine, it looked like India ink

I held my nose, I closed my eyes, I took a drink

 

I didn't know if it was day or night

I started kissing everything in sight

But when I kissed the cop down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine

He broke my little bottle of Love Potion No. 9

It took quite a while to clear our refrigerator shelves of the remaining jars of Chocolate Kahlua Sauce I'd made for a breast cancer fundraiser last fall.  Seventy-two jars total!

Recent requests have me at it once again, selling a few half-pints for the holidays.  One went to Jon, the drummer of the MMQ.  He's got a big sweet tooth.  Or maybe just a big heart...

I brought the jar to a pre-Thanksgiving Saturday night gig when the quartet was playing at The Wine Therapist in Lakewood.  At just after eight, there was a cop sitting on a stool outside the Tex-Mex place which shares an intersection with the wine bar.  The officer looked like a jovial guy and the spot's not known to be rowdy so Spoke and I remained curious about him as we entered the bar to hear some jazz and meet Darren, a recent acquaintance of my sister and a newcomer to Dallas. 

Two sets later and well into a nice bottle of Monte Antico, I ducked out to the car for the sauce.  The cop was still outside Matt's, looking rather bored by then and to me, looking like someone who just needed a little -- you guessed it -- chocolate! 

Turned out Darren isn't a big fan so I took what was to have been his jar and I marched right up and offered it to the policeman.  His eyes lit up and he gave me a wide smile as he took the jar, so I lingered, telling him all the delicious things he could do with the sauce, saving the best suggestion for last which is to chill a ripe pear until it is very cold, slice it, then drizzle the fruit with this dark and rich Kahlua sauce.

Some people believe chocolate to be an aphrodisiac.  I'm not so sure about that but there on the corner, walking back into the club, I knew, potion or not, I had spread a little love.






Love Potion No. 9
Jerry Leiber, Mike Stoller 1959
(markmckenziequartet.com) 
 

imagine

Happy Thanksgiving! 

I hope it has been a good day for you.

I have been looking forward to the weekend with time to write and catch up about the goings-on here at 3906.  I've so much to tell you about that I feel stuffed as that turkey you likely just devoured. 

There's the other afternoon at the arboretum, there's that cop I met, and there is what may be a long post but one which I think you would like, about a very dear, deaf-blind girl.  If Google would only let me, I'd start tomorrow... 

I love writing with windows open as I can now because the weather is so gorgeous this month in Dallas.  From where I usually sit to blog, I can watch the mailman making his way around the cul-de-sac and I can hear leaves crunching under his heavy shoes as he cuts across lawns from house to house, and when he makes his way to our stoop, I jump up to meet him, happy to save him the four, deep steps up to the box.  It's a neighborhood full of front steps and I often feel his pain.

I won't be writing because I've apparently reached my limit on free photo storage and there is no possible way to take you with me to the arboretum without photographs.  There is also no possible way that I'll quickly figure out the what-and-how-to system of photo storage on a computer. 

That will be harder for me than baring my soul to you as we walk through a park. 

I'll figure it out eventually, I'm sure.  I have to.  I need you.

And I am so, so, thankful for you.

750 north st. paul place

Nineteen floors closer to heaven.

Blessed by the generosity of Sardone Construction, I attended Artist vs. Architect, an event featuring works by twenty-four Dallas artists.  Held at 750 N. St. Paul Place, more often referred to as the D Magazine building, the silent auction and friendly competition showcased works in the theme of overcoming poverty.  It was a gala supporting Dwell With Dignity. 

The exhibit layout was circular, art and architecture presented along windowed walls. 

Walking in circles has never been such fun! 

I watched a mural evolve throughout the evening.

I people watched.

 

Between laps, I sampled wine served by Buon Vino, and cocktails by Pisco Porton.

I stalked shoes all night.

I joined in, emptying platters of shrimp dumplings and lobster rolls as quickly as they'd been filled.

Around and around I went, seeing something new each time.

I had a couple of favorites.

Ultimately, I tossed my blue chip into the jar for Jeffrey K Jensen of HKS Architects because I've loved his watercolors for a long time now.  Check out his NYC scenes on his website.

The sun had set when an artist took the challenge of painting a canvas in eight minutes. The piece was a haunting reminder of the purpose for this evening.

Before leaving, I checked the traffic on the signature wall. 

I hope everyone was having a great time for a great cause. 

My thanks again to Stephan.

It was a BLAST!



paper moon

Say it's only a paper moon

Sailing over a cardboard sea

But it wouldn't be make believe

If you believed in me

And it's only a canvas sky

Hanging over a muslin tree (oh, yeah)

But it wouldn't be make believe

If you believed in me

Without your love

It's a honky-tonk parade

Without your love

It's a melody played in a penny arcade

 

This is the first song owner Tony Hakim played at the Grand Opening of his cafe.  It was into the evening when he sat down with his guitar.  It felt so -- well -- right.  The songs that followed were also warm and happy, soft and soothing. 

The same can be said for the cafe.

People relaxed.

They lingered. 

A keyboard and a bugle horn shared the platform and before the night ended there were a couple of tunes by father and son.

I have a hunch that's how it's going to be here.  Two days later, I'm still singing...  

It's a Barnum and Bailey world

Just as phony as it can be (I know)

But it wouldn't be make believe

If you believed in me

The Kitchen Cafe
17370 Preston Road, Dallas, (just north of Campbell Road)
Bill Ohr-keyboard, Rodney Booth-bugle horn, Alex Hakim-vocals

It's Only A Paper MoonMusic by Harold Arlen, published 1933
Lyrics by E.Y.Harburg, Billie Rose
Above version, James Taylor