jaysummer4: Bumpkins and World Music

After being thwarted from having dinner at Manuel's downtown last night, Carrie and I went to a new place on 6th Street called Parkside. At this point, the story becomes "The Rubes Go to Dinner," because we were completely out of our element. Not because Parkside is overly fancy, but because they specialize in raw seafood, and the volume of raw seafood that we have consumed in our lives would fit on a plate or two. The waitress was on to me early, warning me off the amberjack I tried to order, and steering toward the salmon off the grill. Bless her. Carrie's Caesar Salad came with a four inch slice of anchovy laid on the top of it. Easily picked off, but I exposed my rubosity by comparing the lingering flavor (which was good) to that when you take the pickle off your Chick-fil-A sandwich, leaving the nice essence of pickle flavor. Carried loved the gnocchi, and we will go back there, but we still won't try any of the 12 different kinds of raw oysters.

Michigan-based Nomo played at Waterloo yesterday. Horns, drums, and two guitars, creating an infectious world music/Afro-beat sound that was quite good. Not normally my kind of music, but if I was hosting a party, and I wanted grown-ups to dance a little, I'd want to put their CD on. Most of the band members looked like band dorks from Ann Arbor, who got together and said, "Hey, let's be in a cool-sounding band." It worked.

Watching these two drummers bang in unison made me glad I'd moved to the side of the stage. Looked as cool as it sounded.
Carrie and I were watching some political coverage the other night when George Stephanopoulos came on to do some analysis. Carrie posed the question if anybody came out of the Clinton Presidency any better than the boy wonder. I couldn't think of anyone. He left the Clintons early enough, got his gig with ABC, then inherited the David Brinkley show. He seems to have played his cards just right.