musings.schelley.org

A few weeks ago, I found myself sitting next to three friends and surrounded by 200 strangers, watching porn. Not just any porn – Hump 3, The Stranger’s third annual amateur porn contest. Several very brave and some incredibly creative (and some not so creative) people penned scripts, set up cameras, took off their clothes and well, humped on screen.

Hump was fascinating – what could have been an hour and a half of hard core porn was actually an hour and half of pure entertainment. It was fun, one of the events that made me think, “Wow. This is excellent. I’m so glad that I came. And I can’t wait to return next year!� The experience could have been titillating, tinged with shame. Instead, it was a moment of, well, niceness. No one tittered or jeered – the audience laughed at humorous moments, cringed at cringe worthy moments, and behaved as if we were watching a series of art films. Because really, we were watching a series of art films, only films deserving X ratings.

I categorized the shorts into two categories: hard core, of the been there, seen that type, typical of most available porn; and humorous, clever vignettes that rather than focusing on sex, featured a real story, with actual plot and character development and acting. The sex was really an element of these stories, the pleasure was in the veiled references and symbolism.

It’s probably best not to go into all of the gritty details. But some highlights for all of you, because I know that you are curious:

--My two favorite videos: The Room, couches creatively humping and caught in the act by the cuckolded coat rack; and Queer Safari, a Steve Irwin rip-off set in Woodland Park, all about searching for queers and ending a la Blair Witch. I loved the mating ritual, the dancing “fag hags� and final shots with some objects that were, well, awe inspiringly big.

--The hardest of the hard short was split between multiple vignettes , going for an amazingly long period of time and counting us down to the end of the festival. Thank God the Audio Works, indeed.

--Sex on Roller Skates, which was um, exactly what the title says: sex on roller skates. With a great song.

--Lauren Likes Candy made me cringe. A lot.

--I will never look at a bowl of Ivar’s clam chowder, or Ivar’s bobble-head, with any type of innocence ever again.

--It’s good to know that the sculptures were properly cleaned after filming at the Olympic Sculpture Park.

--And the food link, for the spirit of this blog: Zombie Tapioca Lovefest 4000, which featured a bathtub of tapioca. And Ivar’s chowder. As mention, I can no longer look innocently at the chowder. Nor tapioca pudding.

After Hump finished, Dan Savage (a personal hero) destroyed the DVDs, and we filed out of the theater. We talked about our favorite videos. Someone noted that “It seemed weird to sit in a theatre and watch porn with other people.� I pointed out that not that long ago, our only video option was the theaters, surrounded by strangers. It is amazing in how 20 years, an activity that was seen as shameful and smutty is actually accepted as mainstream and artistic. At least in Seattle. I can’t speak for other parts of the country.

Posted by Schelley Olhava at 08:47 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

When I refused wine after repeated offers, I knew I was sick. A combination of flu and cold knocked me out for about a week; several days later, the cold still lingers, but at least I'm back in form, of the cooking and drinking type.

Illness is an odd state. Long naps, punctuated by TV (I blew through the first season of Arrested Development, so arrestingly delicious) and reading. I finished three Rolling Stones, two Cooks Illustrated's, the September 3 & 10 food-themed New Yorker and the Zen of Fish.

In typical New Yorker fashion, the articles about food were somewhat intellectual, perhaps a bit high-brow, and all interesting.

I was completely and utterly jealous of my friends in Singapore after reading about Singaporean street food, a hodgepodge of various Asian cuisines. I so need to go, to eat.

Adam Gopnik collected ingredients for one meal from the five boroughs of New York: honey from a rooftop beehive in SoHo; forage from a park (lambs-quarter); produce from working farms in Staten Island and Red Hook; tilapia from Brooklyn Community College; and chicken, ostensibly from the Garden of Happiness in the Bronx, but from a Brooklyn slaughterhouse selling imported chicken from upstate. It turns out that the Garden of Happiness refused to slaughter the bird and Gopnik chickened out (pun perhaps intended) on the butchery thing. He also did a great job of describing the history of food and New York, as the area has changed from one almost completely self-sufficient to one, that well, isn't.

Jane Kramer (a favorite New Yorker author) wrote an amazing article about Claudia Roden, who is almost single -handedly responsible for documenting various ethnic recipes, particularly Middle Eastern recipes. She began with Egypt and has branched throughout the region. It isn't unknown for her to conduct thousands of interviews for a cookbook, talking not only to the home cooks, but family members, servants and innocent bystanders, among others. Not surprisingly, Roden is slightly eccentric. I just added The New Book of Mediterranean Cooking to my Amazon wish list.

I had never considered the business of wine forgeries, but learned quite a bit about one particular forger whose actions have rippled throughout the old wines trade. It began with a 1787 Lafitte "ThJ" bottle, in which ThJ was a Thomas Jefferson signature and bottle. The improbability that a real Thomas Jefferson bottle had been "found", plus the appearance of a large number of rare bottles lead to a still pending international investigation centering around the mysterious Hardy Rodenstock. Beyond the fact that Rodenstock was a master mixer of various vintages and varietals (imagine if he was actually doing legit work), in a roundabout way, the author also questioned the value of wine experts and their judgements of quality and authenticity. It did remind me - wine is a very personal taste. While we almost always agree on what is good, excellent, bad, these opinions are colored with shades of gray.

The Zen of Fish was about sushi, anchoring the story around a rather hare-brained, but determined student at a sushi school in LA, within a bigger framework of the history of sushi in Japan and the U.S. The author also providing a primer on the "correct" way of eating sushi. Not surprisingly, Americans get it wrong. Among the most interesting fact: fish as we know it will be extinct by 2050. Eat up people, eat up. Another point to ponder: American sushi chefs may be the beacon of keeping traditional sushi preparation and skills alive as the Japanese migrate away from tradition to American sushi habits. Interesting, but if I consider the history of sushi, change and evolution is a constant. History and traditions are important, but flexibility allowing change and evolution lead to new traditions, reflecting the times and interests. New combinations of food, taste and the all important umami have enabled sushi to continue growing in popularity, spawning new traditions amongst the new eaters.

My sushi tradition: Pete and I regularly dine at Hana Sushi on Broadway. The place looks like a cafeteria, but the food is solid and good. And we always have the same conversations: "are we getting too much food? Nah, we'll eat it...oh my gosh, we ordered that much?...I can't believe we ate that much". We have forged our own sushi tradition.

Posted by Schelley Olhava at 05:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Sierra Nevada just released their anniversary ale - a nice ale, not too complex, but not too flat. It has a nice and rounded flavor, slightly nutty and not too hoppy. I really enjoyed it. Even Loren, who typically sticks with the "lighter" beers (Bud, Coors, etc.) enjoyed the beer.

I'm not sure exactly which anniversary the good folks in Chico are celebrating; the dates on the label say 1980 to 2007, meaning that they're exactly 27 years old.

Good to know that Sierra Nevada is legal.

Posted by Schelley Olhava at 07:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This isn't necessarily related to food and drink. Something kind of fun that didn't take long to write, from jennidallas.

BTW, I have a couple of half-written entries and a fairly open weekend, so should be posting stuff soon. Including a pic of my newly painted living room - hurrah!

1. your rock star name (first pet & first car): Star Sentra

2. your gansta name (fav ice cream flavor, favorite cookie): Mint Chip Chocolate Chip (that is the ice cream and the cookie)

3. your “fly girl"? name (first initial of first name, first three letters of your last name): SOlh (which makes better sense than my work alias, schellol)

4. your detective name (fav color, fav animal): Blue Dog

5. your soap opera name (middle name, city where you were born): Marie Napa

6. your Star Wars name (first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first): Olhsc (how do you pronounce, Ohl-shick? That sounds slightly dirty)

7. superhero name (the? + 2nd fav color, fav drink): The Pink Cosmopolitan

8. nascar name (the first names of your grandfathers): Dooly Leo (technically, Grandpa Luttrell's first name was James, but he always went my Dooly. Both grandpas would we proud to know that they make up my Nascar name)

9. stripper name ( the name of your fav perfume/cologne/scent, fav candy): Vanilla Maltball

10. witness protection name (mother’s & father’s middle names ): Jean Leon

11. tv weather anchor name (your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter): Ingalls Istanbul

12. spy name (your fav season/holiday, flower): Winter Gerber Daisy

13. cartoon name (fav fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + “ie" or “y"): Rhubarb Raincoatery (this office is cold)

14. hippy name (what you ate for breakfast, your fav tree): Scone Japanese Maple

15. your rockstar tour name (the + your fav hobby/craft, fav weather element + “tour"): The Baking Rainstorm Tour

Posted by Schelley Olhava at 09:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)