This Sucks

It looks like we're about to lose another fabulous tiki restaurant in suburban NYC. What's worse, it isn't because they WANT to shut down or are doing bad business. They aren't--they're doing fine. Their greedy jackwagon of a landlord isn't renewing their lease because they want to replace all of the independently owned businesses in the plaza with national chains. It makes my blood absolutely BOIL! The LAST thing suburban (or urban) New York needs is another chain restaurant or store. We need more chains like we need a hole in the head. The fact that this business continues to do well and make money is a testament to their fitness to stay around. I swear, it's like you have to be a complete bonehead to thrive in corporate America. I know I'll move on to the grieving process, but right now I'm dumbfounded and angry. I hope whichever new business ends up in their space burns down, along with any pinheads dumb enough to patronize them. It would serve them right.

Past Ramblings:

The Shoveling Fairy?

Saturday I was outside shoveling snow from the driveway (it was either that or stay inside and do taxes), when the strangest thing happened. A van pulled up and this guy asked "Do you need to get out today?" When I said no, he jumped out and started shoveling with lightning speed. I said "No! We can't pay you! We have no money! Don't!" He said "It's okay" and kept shoveling. I ran inside to get Paul, because I didn't think this could possibly lead anywhere good, and he went outside, but the guy was done. Paul started to tell him he really didn't need to do that, but the guy just said "It's okay" again, jumped in his van and drove away. We were stunned. I'd love to think it was a random good deed, but my cynical side (the side that's lived in New York for almost 22 years) is skeptical. It saved us a lot of work and I appreciate it, so I'll pay it forward and do good deeds when I can. I still think it was weird, though. Nice, but weird.

I Finally Know What They Meant

I've been thinking a lot this week about something I've heard most of my life, about how much "stamina" it takes to be an actor (writer/singer/anything in the arts). As a youngster I always took that to mean physical energy, like you had to be able to go from audition to audition, pounding the pavement without exhaustion. Now I know that what they really meant was mental stamina. Emotional stamina. The stamina to go on when you feel like everyone is against you and the world is completely apathetic. The stamina to keep fighting when even those closest to you could not care less (or wish you'd fail). Paul is my anchor and my rock and he unconditionally loves me and keeps me going, but I sometimes feel like no one else gives a damn about my creative goals, which, frankly, are my life. If you don't care about my creative goals, or at least wish me well in them, you don't care about ME, period. All the rest is BS. The events, the collectibles, the parties, the vacations--NONE of it means anything to me without my creativity. If you think that makes me a sad and pathetic figure, too bad. I love what I do. It means the world to me in a way "stuff" and "making the scene" never will. So, if you love me, you want me to succeed. If you don't want me to succeed, you don't love me. Period.

Question Authority

I hesitate to even go into this, but it's on my mind and I trust that anyone reading this means I don't mean them personally.

I've had a couple of experiences recently that have left me utterly disgusted with "the system." Authorities, who ostensibly care about the well-being of those in their community, have half-assed their investigations into issues surrounding those in need (I'm keeping this deliberately vague because of privacy concerns). A person is in trouble and no one is willing to look into it for more than a perfunctory check, which turns up nothing in their eyes, because they didn't even take time to do a decent job of their investigations. Later, when this becomes an issue that the authorities can't ignore, everyone will be shocked and whine "Why did this happen?" Because the authorities half-assed it, that's why! On top of that stressful issue, we got a water bill in the mail the other day for, I'm not kidding you, $383.83! WHAT?!?! That is almost double the amount it's always been in the past. Of course everyone who hears that says the same thing: "Maybe you have a leak." A 10,000 GALLON LEAK? I think we'd notice that! Paul called the water department and got someone utterly unhelpful on the phone, but spoke to a supervisor, who said they'd do another reading. I'm not sure what that's going to prove, since the previous reading was done in the beginning of December, but at least we can also get a new meter, because that is absurd. I suspect there is more at work here and we will continue to investigate, but, in the meantime, always question authority when something seems weird or off to you. It probably is, because they clearly have no idea what they're doing.

It's Always SOME Holiday Season

I always say I'm going to leave our Christmas decor up until well into the new year, but I have to admit that, by the time you read this, it will all be down except for the Elvis tree, which we leave up until the King's birthday in mid-January. I have a good reason for taking it down, though, and that is that we'll be shooting our next episode of the "Velveteen Lounge Kitsch-en" on Monday. The holidays were wonderful and they always slip by too quickly, but they'll come again and, in the meantime, we have exciting things to get to. Besides, when I think of how quickly 2011 passed I realize that Christmas 2012 will be here in a heartbeat. So I'll keep Christmas in my heart all year long, look for vintage Christmas decor at thrift stores and yard sales throughout the year and look forward to summer!

Staying True To My Roots

With over 400 recipes in the Velveteen Lounge Cocktail Archive you might imagine that there's been some evolution over the years. I started this website in 2002 and my only weekly features were "What We're Celebrating This Week" and "Cocktail of the Week." We lived in New Rochelle, had never heard of Beachbum Berry and were just trying and inventing cocktails that sounded fun to us. I'm always in favor of growth and evolution, but I sometimes get nostalgic for a time when cocktails were just for fun. Among many of the folks we've met in the years since 2002 they're Serious Business. A poorly made cocktail is practically grounds for execution and the use of anything but the very best ingredients means you're a slacker or worse. My tastes have also evolved and I don't necessarily enjoy the super sweet cocktails as much as I once did, but I do miss that innocent time. I was recently asked why I keep some of those old recipes in the archive when I'd never actually drink them anymore. It's to remind myself that this is all supposed to be fun and that I never want to become a cocktail snob. Yes, I enjoy a well-made drink and I've grown accustomed to a certain level of quality, but I don't like snobbery, in myself or anyone else. So I'll keep those recipes up there. If people enjoy them, great! If not, well, at least they can see the evolution of this site, drink-wise!

Green This

I've had eleven or twelve hours sleep in the past three days and I fully admit I'm in a terrible mood, but if I have to hear any more about how the environment going to hell in a bucket is my own personal fault I'm going to strangle somebody! I drove Paul to the train station this morning on 1 1/2 hours sleep and figured listening to the radio on the way home might keep me awake. I turned on NPR and was greeted with a screed about how the problem is people who live in the suburbs and if we cared AT ALL about the environment we'd get rid of our car and move back to the city to reduce our carbon footprint. I'm sorry (okay, I'm really NOT sorry!), but SCREW YOU! We live in a house that was built in 1938. Wouldn't it impact the environment if we left this house to either go to seed or tore it down? I think buying an older house is the ultimate in recycling. We also shop at flea markets, thrift stores, yard sales and the used book store and have been known to grab quite a few pieces of furniture and household items out of the trash. Hello, that's recycling, too! I save used food jars to make candles and to hold things. In fact, I took out our weekly garbage last night and the bag was only about 1/3 full, since we recycle so much. I combine car trips and only drive over to the other side of town when I'm going anyway, to pick Paul up, if I can possibly help it. We replace all of our burnt out light bulbs with those florescent curlicue things that are supposed to last, like, eight years, even though they cost more. They're supposed to reduce our energy bill, too, but I have yet to see that effect. We eat leftovers. We compost. We may not use solar panels (although I'd love to) or drive a hybrid, but I think we do our part and it pisses me off when these sanctimonious yuppies tell me I'M the problem! We could all switch to overpriced organic laundry detergent and it's going to do jack squat in terms of real environmental change if places like China don't clean up their acts. So don't try to pin this one on me, just because I don't want to overpay through the nose for a cramped city apartment in a scary neighborhood (which, believe me, is all we could afford in the city). I'm sick of taking the blame.

Nobody Likes a Pretentious Crafter

It's funny: crafts like sewing and knitting are often thought of as homey sorts of pastimes, done by folks who enjoy the simpler things in life. Believe me, that's a myth. It may have been like that 30 years ago, but if the people who think crafting is a gentle pastime could see some of the women who shop at our local craft stores they'd be alarmed. I'm alarmed! I'm not terribly competitive by nature, preferring to keep outdoing myself, rather than outdoing others, but these women are an entirely different breed from me. Maybe they worship Martha Stewart, in all her arrogance. I don't know, but it's kind of surreal to be in an aisle of fabric featuring images of adorable kittens, gentle flowers and cartoon characters and be practically shoved aside by some soccer mom who's convinced she's the Queen Crafter in the store that day. It's worse when two or more of them get together, because then we're forced to listen to them loudly and pretentiously discuss the projects they're doing. Typically I'm alone in these situations, but when I'm with Paul the temptation is great to say something like, "Well, this fabric is OKAY, if you like to be like everyone else, but I'm going to be different and make a 1950s prom dress out of a shower curtain, using a vintage pattern OF COURSE," just to see the horrified looks on their faces. Heh heh heh! The truth is that I can find lots to love in any craft store and I buy all kinds of fabric from all sources, but these biddies need to be brought down a peg or two. You know I'm bad!

Swank/Not Swank

I've always hated people who consider themselves arbiters of taste and appropriate behavior, so please don't take this as anything more than my observations of behavior I've seen recently. If you read it and think I'm full of it and want to go around acting like a jerk, hey, whatever! I may change your name and write about it here, but it's totally your business and I won't confront you about it.

I've had occasion recently to attend several events that took place in glamorous surroundings, with folks who pride themselves on such knowledge as single malt scotches, cigars, jazz and the like. However, knowing about a subject doesn't make one sophisticated or swank, particularly if one indulges in any of the following behaviors:

Not swank: getting plastered in a public place and bouncing off the walls like a chimp
Swank: being able to hold your liquor and, more importantly, stop when you've had enough

Not swank: incessant name dropping
Swank: being confident about yourself and mentioning your famous friends only when it comes up organically

Not swank: pointing out the designer of your outfit to all who will listen
Swank: wearing what you like and mentioning its provenance only when asked

Not swank: ordering a lot more food and/or drink than everyone else and expecting to split the check equally
Swank: paying your share

Not swank: constant complaining (the food, the drinks, the service, etc.)
Swank: going with the flow and being willing to try new things and, if the service is atrocious, bringing it up with management in private (we saw a friend do this recently and it was not only classy, but lead to a bunch of free drinks for our table)

Not swank: spouting off about any subject like a pretentious twit
Swank: a lively, respectful discussion with willing participants

You get the picture. It's good to be knowledgeable about a variety of topics and to be enthusiastic. It becomes ugly when folks try too hard to be impressive. They just come off as pompous asses or, worse, sad. I like to think of it this way: would Dean Martin do it? If the answer is no, I probably shouldn't either!



Ripped from Today's (and yesterday's and tomorrow's) Headlines

As I perused our local newspaper's website this morning I found myself thinking that they really don't need to employ reporters so much as someone to write a bunch of story templates and simply change the names and towns every day. For every genuinely original story, like the guy who lost the sight in one eye during a war (WW2 or Korea--I forget which), but regained it when he was recently kicked by a horse, there are approximately 500 that fall into one of a few categories, such as:

"Local Official Indicted on Bribery/Coercion/Embezzlement Charges"
I don't know whether or not we have more crooked politicians than other places, but I certainly hope so, because it seems like a desire to run for public office here goes hand in hand with a desire to commit crimes.

"Local Punk or Mom Indicted on Embezzlement or Insurance Fraud Charges"
This one differs slightly from above because it doesn't involve elected officials. We seem to have lots of folks in their early-20s who turn their creative energy to bilking insurance companies. Just think what they might accomplish if they used that energy in legal ways. We also get a lot of moms in their 30s and 40s in white collar jobs who decide to supplement their incomes by embezzling. Hope those Disney timeshares and Lexuses are worth the jail time.

"Local Driver Wraps Car Around Tree"
The newspaper has undertaken a campaign to get drivers to slow down, since there are several stories every day about people dying or getting injured on local roads, the Thruway and I-84. I appreciate their efforts, but lotsa luck with that one. It seems the only good car trip taken around here is taken at top speed, whether it's sunny and 75 degrees or snowing. The lack of police enforcement insures that this practice will continue in perpetuity.

"Local School Official Engages in Lewd or Boneheaded Activity"
It seems the only qualification you need to become a school official in this town is to be an utter moron, a child molester or someone who covers up for a child molester, although that may fall under the category of utter moron.

"Gangs Infiltrate Local School and All the Middle Class Kids Become Gangbangers"
If you believe the first twenty pages of the paper there aren't any kids left in our schools over the age of twelve who aren't affiliated with a violent gang. The social column occasionally features a kid heading off to Harvard or doing something legal but not often. The law of averages suggests that there must also be some kids engaging in wholesome, productive activities, but you certainly don't hear about them often.

"Another Church Closes"
There must be some churches still operating around here, but, seemingly, not for long. I typically skip these stories, so I don't know why all these churches are closing. I'd guess poor attendance, but it seems lots of people are upset by these closings, so either that's not it or their consternation doesn't translate into church attendance.

"Gas Prices Are High"
This is the paper's number one filler story, always accompanied by a photo of someone pumping gas into an SUV.

"Property Values Plummet"
Another filler story, wherein they repeatedly interview the same real estate salespeople, who assure us that the sky is falling. Yeah, if you were stupid enough to pay half a million dollars for a house in Orange County.

"Another Dollar Store is Robbed"
This is a recent addition to the canon, but it's happened four or five times lately. Robbers often wear hoodies to do their thing.

"Locals Up In Arms Because of Development or New People Moving to the Area"
When you're an hour from New York City you're going to be caught in the path of urban sprawl, but there are many who refuse to face this reality and they like to run to the paper and whine. I'm not a fan of developers either, but that's life when you live in the metro area. I would suggest moving to Vermont or Montana if it bothers you. That might keep you out of the path of NYC urban sprawl for at least a few more years.

There are more, but you get the idea. Throw in the comics, obits and Dear Abby and you get pretty much the same newspaper every day. There's war coverage, too, but I can't even look at that and, besides, that's the same every day, too. I get the top stories online and Paul brings the actual paper home most days, but it really wouldn't matter if I missed a day, since I'm going to read basically the same stories the next day and the day after that and the day after that...

I'm Keepin' it Fake

There are those among the thirty-and forty-something-who-grew-up-middle-and-upper-middle-class-in-the-suburbs set (okay, I'm talking about some folks I know--I'm trying to describe them as generically as possible!) who put a lot of stock in keeping things "real." They'll speak reverently about seeing horrible bands I've never heard of (for good reason) at firetrap clubs with restroom doors that don't close and floors sticky with beer, puke and God knows what else and look at you like you're a pathetic loser if you suggest that seeing a band at midnight on a Tuesday doesn't sound like fun when you have to wake up at 5:00 AM. Yes, these people have jobs. They just go in to work exhausted and hung over, but that's better than rested because they're keepin' it real! They don't watch TV like the plastic, sellout losers they know! They don't cook or have dishes that match or clean their skanky apartments, oh, ever. That's for people without social lives! Speaking of social lives, one such individual (our age, which is nowhere near 21) was telling us recently that he was out drinking with an underage friend and became nervous when the cops came into the bar. Not knowing anyone under 21 (or under 30, really) I just never have those sorts of problems. Call me a fuddy-duddy, but I don't start sweating when I see a peace officer. Of course, the only bars I frequent are the Lounge and Koala Kabana and those are rarely visited by the law. No bar fights, no underage drinking, no alcohol poisoning--we're so boring. The thing that really cracks me up about all this "reality" is that it's no more these folks' "real" experience than sprouting wings and flying. Face it: you grew up safe and comfortable. Most teens rebel at some point, but that was half a lifetime ago. Your idol, Sid Vicious, had a mother who sold drugs for a living and shot up with him. Yours didn't. Deal with it. I expect some of these poseurs to start sporting dreadlocks any day now. Me, I'll stay here in my fake, phony Lounge, sipping martinis and listening to good music at a volume that won't guarantee hearing loss in a few years. I may even see some of my favorite performers live (the ones who are still alive to see, anyway), but only if I'm positive the floors of the venue won't be sticky!

I Like What I Like

One of the things I looked forward to most about adulthood when I was a kid was the fact that I would no longer have to deal with pressure to conform or people putting down the things I liked and that made me happy. Well, I'm still waiting for that day that day to arrive. If you read my Velveteen Lounge Manifesto (see below) you know just how much I detest unsolicited opinions about my life and the things I do and enjoy. The difference between third grade and now, however, is that I no longer care if I or my passions and interests are deemed acceptable, either by society or by any individual. This week a couple of members of the online retro community decided I'm lowbrow because I enjoy a nice hearty ale (maybe they meant Lowenbrau). I know I'm not lowbrow. I know I have a degree from a well-regarded university that actually makes you work for that piece of paper, that I've had two years full-time Shakespeare conservatory training and that I spent a good chunk of my youth at a yacht club. I know who I am. I'm also not a snob. I like what I like and I like that I no longer care when others disagree with my tastes (or think I have no taste). In fact, I am so unashamed that I think I'll list some other unacceptable things I like, without irony or apology: disco, Love Boat, CHiPs, The Jazz Singer (and I mean the Neil Diamond version), any Rankin-Bass Christmas special, Jacqueline Susann novels, Bobby Rivers, Target, Nancy Sinatra, doing the speed limit when I drive, Match Game and the big three of terrible movie musicals, Can't Stop the Music, Staying Alive and Flashdance. I'm sure there are plenty of others, but that'll do for a start. Don't want to cause too much shock all at once!

There must be some socially-unacceptable-yet-legal things you enjoy. Let yourself enjoy them without shame or remorse. You only live once.

A Velveteen Lounge Manifesto

It has come to my attention over the past few weeks that I'm thought of by some people as something of a goody two-shoes. Apparently I'm too polite and am putting on an act. Never mind who said it. The fact is that the people who said these things don't know me very well. However, I think that perhaps something about the way I express myself has lead to these conclusions. I know I'm not a goody two-shoes, a wuss, or anything else of the sort, but I dislike being misunderstood, so please allow me to set the record straight.

First of all, I do not tell off every single person I come across that really should be told off. If told off everyone who needed a good telling-off I would do nothing else in my life because I would be telling people off full-time. I choose my battles. There is also the real and present possibility of physical violence when you tell off someone you don't know. I try to save tellings-off as a last resort. However, that doesn't mean that it doesn't happen when it needs to be done.

The fact that I don't offer my unsolicited opinion about everything from politics to cartoons to your love life does not mean that I approve of everything you do or that I necessarily agree with you. I despise it when people offer me their unsolicited opinions and I imagine it annoys you as much as it annoys me. You're an adult and I figure you've thought through your opinions and life choices. If you want my opinion you'll ask for it. Otherwise you won't get it unless I'm complimenting you.

I really think there is too much negativity in our society already and I try (not always successfully, I admit) not to bitch about everything under the sun. It's such a cliche. I'd rather try to make my life better than complain constantly about how miserable I am and how it's everybody else's fault. I hate whining but, hey, if you want to whine I support your right to do so. Our founding fathers fought tirelessly for your right to whine.

Wow, this feels great! I hope we're all on the same page now. I'm full of opinions and have plenty of venom to spew, but I like to think that I have a life and my priorities don't include interfering with every person who crosses my path. I think it's time we all sat down now for a nice round of Whiskey Slings. This round's on me...