Time for “on a stick”, that is.
I feel like nine out of the ten are items I could actually go for. Only the “Texas Sugar Rush Pickles” (“The sliced pickles taste like cotton candy and are covered in Froot Loops, Lucky Charms and Cap’n Crunch. The concotion, served in a cup, includes vanilla ice cream, cotton candy, cotton candy sugar crystals, strawberry syrup and powdered sugar for a colorful mix of flavors.“) really bother me.
Money quote:
Robert Pearson, hair stylist turned…barbecue chef.
He was pretty successful as a stylist, working with Vidal Sassoon and Paul Mitchell, as well as setting up a chain of salons in Bloomingdale’s.
He took up Texas-style barbecue seriously.
He purchased a $13,000 custom-made pit from Texas. He bought mesquite wood at $800 a cord, which he blended with local green oak (at just $110 a cord); after much experimentation, he found that a one-to-four ratio created the right balance of smoke from the mesquite and moisture from the oak to fuel the six- to 18-hour fires he needed to cook his meats.
Mr. Pearson was a purist: He insisted on wood, and only wood, as fuel. He cooked low and very, very slow. He eschewed rubs and sauces, letting flavor emerge from the meat and smoke. He specialized in brisket, the lodestar of Texas barbecue, but also offered half chickens, pork shoulder and the occasional exotic fare, like alligator, elk loin and rattlesnake.
His first location was in Connecticut, just off of I-95. Later on, he moved it to Queens.
After establishing himself in Queens, Mr. Pearson tried to open an outlet in Manhattan, which he supplied with food cooked in Queens. But he found that the cooked meat lost its zing during the drive across the East River, and in any case the space caught fire a few days after opening.
In the late 1990s, he stepped back from his restaurant, not long before it lost its lease under pressure from neighbors who, despite loving his food, were less enamored with its constant, thick smoke.
…
While many young pit masters looked to Mr. Pearson as a mentor, few chose to follow his near-religious devotion to an austere interpretation of Texas barbecue, and in particular his aversion to sauce.
Conceding to consumer tastes, he did offer a quartet of sauces as an accompaniment: mild, medium, “madness” and “mean,” which he said, with some disdain, was a further concession to “macho” diners who insisted that real barbecue had to be wet and spicy. Mean, made with a pile of Szechuan peppercorns, gave them what they wanted, and more.
“When I’m making that sauce at the store, I’ve got to make sure it’s very quiet, and nobody else is around,” he told Newsday. “It’s very volatile. Mean is not really meant for human consumption.”
Peter Buxtun, one of the people responsible for exposing the Tuskegee Study.
For the benefit of my younger readers:
Officially known as the Tuskegee Study of Untreated Syphilis in the Negro Male, the research began in 1932 with the recruiting of about 400 poor, undereducated Black men in Macon County, Ala., whose seat is Tuskegee. All had been found to have syphilis.
The infected men were deceptively told that they had “bad blood,” not a sexually communicable disease that could lead to blindness, heart injury and death. The researchers wanted to use them as human guinea pigs, without their informed consent, to study the ravages of syphilis.
Even after penicillin was found in the 1940s to be an effective cure for syphilis, the men were not offered treatment. In one sample of 92 deceased men from the study, 30 percent were found to have died of syphilis complications.
…
But in the early 1970s, after Mr. Buxtun had left the health service for law school, he turned his files over to reporters for The Associated Press. An article by Jean Heller, an A.P. investigative reporter, ran on front pages around the country, including in The New York Times on July 26, 1972.
“All hell broke loose,” said Susan M. Reverby, the author of “Examining Tuskegee: The Infamous Syphilis Study and Its Legacy.”
…
I like this quote:
Dr. Reverby, who got to know Mr. Buxtun, described him as a political libertarian and National Rifle Association member who was angry that the health agency where he worked, tracing people with sexually transmitted diseases, was denying treatment to the Alabama men.
“He thought it was outrageous and wrong,” she said, adding, “He was really a strong-willed, irascible guy.”
Naomi Pomeroy, prominent Portland chef. She appeared on a few reality shows, but probably wasn’t that well known to my readers. The obit is interesting, though.
She and her first husband, Michael Hebb, got started by hosting “underground suppers”. They proved popular enough that they were able to get investors and started opening brick and mortar restaurants. They got widespread acclaim in Portland for “revitalizing” the restaurant scene there, and some national acclaim.
Then it all fell apart. One day, Mr. Hebb told Ms. Pomeroy that there wasn’t any money left to pay the staff or run the restaurants, and left town that night. (There’s a good article from “Portland Monthly” in 2009 about what happened, if you want more details.)
Ms. Pomeroy was left holding the bag. The “Portland Monthly” article and, to some extent, the NYT obit, make it sound like she was the real talented chef of the two, while Mr. Hebb was more of an idea and hype man.
Ms. Pomeroy did manage to recover and re-enter the restaurant business. She was 49, and died in a tubing accident on the Willamette River.
“Back to Tulsa AGAIN? You were just there in November.”
True that. But the Smith and Wesson Collectors Association tries to rotate the symposiums around the country: “West Coast” one year (that was last year’s Glendale symposium), “East Coast” one year (Concord in 2022 and again next year), and “Central” (Tulsa this year).
I’m glad to say that this year’s hotel (which we were also at in 2021) was very very happy to see us. Last year’s hotel…wasn’t, and I’ll just leave it at that. The Renaissance Tulsa Hotel & Convention Center, on the other hand, could not have been more accomodating. (They did have “No Firearms or Weapons” stickers on the doors, but I never heard anything about anybody being hassled by the hotel staff.) I was privy to a conversation between one of my friends (who is a S&WCA officer) and one of the hotel managers, and the manager was very excited about having us back. We tip well, we don’t throw loud obnoxious parties, we have our own security, and we don’t trash the place.
There are two popular questions people ask me. Well, maybe one “popular” question and one not-so-popular.
“Did I buy any guns?” Answer: yes, but we’re still going through the transfer process. Once that’s complete, I plan to do a post. Here’s a hint:
“Did I buy any books?” asked nobody, ever. Answer: Yes! My book buddy from the Association came down from Canada and brought a stack of books. He thought I might be interested in “some” of them and planned to put the others on his sales table. I bought the whole lot, which came out to ten books by my count. This includes two new-to-me Samworths, one duplicate Samworth that’s in better shape than my copy, three Jack O’Connor books that I didn’t have, and some miscellaneous books from other publishers. I will be annoying my loyal reader with posts on those books as time permits.
Additionally, I happened to be working the registration table with another gentleman who, it turned out, was also a gun book person. He had somehow wound up with a spare copy of a recent gun book and gifted his spare to me.
I also picked up a fair amount of old paper, some of which my book buddy threw in as part of my purchase and some of which I bought from other dealers. I may scan and post some of this, especially when I do the gun post.
(And as a side note: the night before I left, I got two huge and heavy packages from an auction lot I’d placed a lowball bid on, and won. The lot was for old “gun and ammo” books. So I’ll be sharing interesting bits from that lot as well.)
Since Sunday was an off day, I drove up to Oklahoma City specifically to see the 45th Infantry Division Museum, which is now known as the Oklahoma National Guard Museum (and which is moving to a new facility). You may recognize the 45th Infantry Division Museum from such hits as:
(Hattip: Lawrence.)
I thought it was a very nice museum. They had me when I discovered there was an entire room devoted to Bill Mauldin.
Here. Have a random photo of some bazookas.
I’m very glad I went, especially now. As I noted above, the museum is moving to a new location. And I got into a conversation with the curator, who told me that they are planning to deaccession some things, as the new museum will be placing more emphasis on “telling stories”. I think that’s kind of a shame. Where else are you going to see this?
Except maybe in “The Green Berets“.
I encourage you to go now, if you’re in the area and have the opportunity. I would actually like to spend more time at the museum, but I wanted to get back in time for dinner and to take a couple of photos in Muskogee:
The first Girl Scout cookie sale took place in Muskogee in 1917. I could not find a reference to price at the time, but in 1922, the Girl Scouts recommended selling home-baked cookies for “25 to 30 cents per dozen”. $6 in 2024 money works out to 32 cents in 1922 money, and 24 cents in 1917 money, according to the inflation calculator I like to use.
I took a group of my friends to Siegi’s Sausage Factory and, as far as I could tell, everyone loved it. Another large group of my friends took me to the White River Fish Market and Restaurant, which I liked, but which was in a really gritty part of Tulsa.
We also went to an Abuelo’s one night, because it was very near the hotel. I went by myself one night to a place Mike the Musicologist calls “The Laugh-In Restaurant”: Sake 2 Me Sushi. It is all-you-can-eat, but I wasn’t wild about the sushi.
And Sunday night’s celebratory dinner was at The Chalkboard, because I haven’t been in forever and wanted some Beef Wellington.
Everything went smoothly. No complaints here, except that eight hours in a car does get a little tiring.
Usual thanks to the usual suspects. You know who you are. (It appears that word has gotten around within S&WCA circles that I have a blog.)
Yesterday was an extended travel day. I got in around 5 PM last night, and had to unpack the car and take care of other business. So blogging opportunities were limited.
Oddly, I have to work today, and have meetings tonight. But tomorrow is a company holiday. I’m planning to post something of a trip report then.
In the meantime, a few obits.
Anouk Aimée, French actress. NYT (archived). IMDB.
Kevin Brophy, actor. Other credits include “Matt Houston”, “Trapper John, M.D.”, and a spinoff of a minor SF TV show from the 1960s.
Ben Vautier, French artist. I haven’t done an “Art, damn it! Art!” watch for a while, and he seems like a good candidate.
Forever looking to provoke, Mr. Vautier found a kindred spirit in 1962 when he met George Maciunas, who spearheaded the avant-garde Fluxus movement of the 1960s, which included Yoko Ono, Nam June Paik and other artists, and which drew from the iconoclastic Dada movement of the early 20th century.
Fluxus, as articulated in Mr. Maciunas’s 1963 manifesto, was intended as a revolution, a call to comrades to “promote living art, anti-art, promote non-art reality,” while purging the world of “dead art, imitation, artificial art.”
Mr. Vautier certainly did his part, as both a visual and performance artist, with works that straddled the line between conceptual art and punchline.
At the Documenta art festival in Kassel, Germany in 1972, he famously strung a banner that read “Kunst Ist Überflüssig” (“Art Is Superfluous”) across the top of the august Fridericianum museum.
He strove to show that art could be found in daily life, and in ordinary objects, as with his series “Tas,” in which he piled dirt and garbage into lots and signed them as if they were masterpieces.
Starting in the 1960s, Mr. Vautier gave staged performances — he called them “gestes” (“gestures”) — that could seem like practical jokes on the audience. In one, “Audience Piece No. 8” (1965), guests were informed that the next piece was to be presented in a special area. Ushers then led them in groups through back exits and abandoned them.
In “Piano Concerto No. 2 for Paik,” an apparent concert from the same year, a pianist fled the stage before playing a note and the orchestra chased him in hot pursuit, trying to drag him back.
Mr. Vautier was often all too willing to shock. In one performance piece, he urinated in a jar, which he then exhibited as if it were high art. In another, he repeatedly slammed his head against a wall.
James Kent, NYC chef.
He opened his own restaurant, Crown Shy, in 2019 with a partner, Jeff Katz, the general manager of Del Posto, an Italian restaurant in Manhattan that closed in 2021. “At Crown Shy, the Only False Step Is the Name” read the headline of a “critic’s pick” review by Pete Wells, the restaurant critic of The New York Times. (The name refers to tall trees’ tendency not to allow their upper stories to grow entangled with the branches of their neighbors.)
Mr. Wells wrote that Mr. Kent’s dishes “regularly over-deliver.” He singled out for praise “an almost absurdly creamy purée of white bean hummus under a fiery red slick of melted ’nduja; a beef tartare with toasted walnuts and rye croutons; and oysters served with “cucumber jelly, diced cucumbers, grains of jalapeño and microleaves of purple shiso.”
…
Crown Shy garnered one star from the Michelin restaurant guide. Saga earned two.
It was fine dining worthy of the European tradition, but with American casualness and an embrace of pop culture.
Mr. Kent played Wu-Tang Clan and the Notorious B.I.G. at Crown Shy. He eschewed a formal dress code. With his chef coat he could often be seen wearing expensive sneakers.
His spray-painted murals earned him a reputation as “a chef that’s also a wildly talented graffiti artist,” as Bloomberg reported in 2016. He was commissioned to do artwork at NoMad Hotel and the restaurant tech company Salido.
…
In April, The Times reported that Mr. Kent and Saga Hospitality Group had leased 3,000 square feet on the ground floor of the former Domino Sugar refinery in Brooklyn for a bakery and a “casual all-day restaurant.”
That same month, the lifestyle magazine The Robb Report described yet more ambitious plans. Mr. Kent was opening a new 140-seat restaurant on Park Avenue inspired by the Grand Central Oyster Bar, where his grandmother Sue Mingus first went on a date with the jazz musician Charles Mingus, who became her husband and whose legacy she took charge of overseeing until her death in 2022.
At the same time, Mr. Kent was planning a fast-casual fried chicken sandwich restaurant on the level of Shake Shack, The Robb Report said. LRMR Ventures, a private investment firm of LeBron James and his friend and business partner Maverick Carter, was backing Saga Hospitality Group’s expansion.
Investors “believe Kent’s a rare, multidimensional talent who’s primed to become the next great American restaurateur,” The Robb Report wrote.
He was 45.
The people at Underwood Ammo are really nice. Go buy stuff from them, please. It doesn’t even have to be .356 TSW ammo. I bought a shirt, because you can’t buy guns or ammo at the meeting.
Miles walked today: 4.2. We finished off the entire lower level and got about halfway through the upper level. I expect to be finished before the show closes tomorrow and have enough time to go back to a few places. We haven’t quite made it to the Smith and Wesson booth yet, but we have been within feet of it.
We’ve had excellent meals so far at Royal China (repeat, took friends, still great) and Taste of Europe.
Best swag today: nothing really outstanding, but Fiocchi did give me a hat. They seemed to be really pushing 5.7 ammo.
Someone else gave me a book: Rod Of Iron Kingdom, by Hyung Jin Sean Moon. They told me it was a Biblically based defense of the Second Amendment. I haven’t read it yet (we just got back to the room) so I can’t tell you any more about it. Here’s their website, but I can’t get past the front page on my phone.
Most interesting thing seen today: the LabRadar LX. It looks a lot like the Garmin Xero C1, and appears to be close in price. Unlike the original LabRadar, it can only measure out to 15 yards from the muzzle rather than 100. But the LX can measure up to 5,000 fps: the original LabRadar is limited to 3,000 fps. (I know, it probably sounds silly. But when I get around to chronoing my .220 Swift, I expect the loads to be well over 3,000 fps.)
Superior Outfitters is opening a new store and asked me to note that. So noted: the new store is in Terrell, behind the Buc-ee’s, and they make a point of saying it is behind the Buc-ee’s, which amuses me.
Noted:
SIG Sauer XM250, also in 6.8×51 (or .277 Furry Fury).
No, we did not go to see Trump or Abbott. Nor did we go to the actual meeting, though our friends did. The big news is that the motion to move the NRA to Texas was rejected: it seems that people think it is premature and not enough work has been done on what it will cost.
I’ll vote that ticket. I went by Wilson’s booth to ask them about gunsmithing: I have a gun that I’d like for them to work on, but they aren’t taking any work for non-Wilson guns rught now. According to them, they have…two gunsmiths working right now. So nobody can get sick or take a vacation.
We went by the Hornady booth and I got to talk to the folks behind the podcast, which was cool. Thanks, guys! Also got a poster with all their bullets on it…I believe actual size.
We also had nice conversations with people at the Ruger/Marlin booth. The best was with one of their factory reps about the left-hand market and Ruger’s catering to it. According to this gentleman (and he was truly an old-school gentleman) 20% of the firearms market is left-handed. Many of them have learned to shoot bolt guns and other rifles right-handed, but Ruger thinks there’s a market for left-handed guns. They already have done left-handed Gunsite Scouts, and a left-handed 10/22. And there’s plans for something new this fall…
Worth more investigation: TagMe by Ocufil. This is a beacon system that transmits to a local base station: you can have up to 10 beacons per base station. The beacon is attached to something you want to protect, like a gun. When the beacon moves because someone picked up the item, the system sends an alert to your phone. It definitely isn’t like an AirTag or Tile because it doesn’t do motion tracking: it only alerts you if something moves your stuff.
Okay. I’m tired again. Strange how that works. I did also want to mention from yesterday the neat little Tippmann Ordnance .22 Gatling gun. You could have a bunch of fun with that.
Time for to go to bed. More tomorrow on this station.
Dennis Thompson, drummer for the MC5. He was also the last surviving member.
Pete McCloskey (R – California). He may be more famous for having run against Nixon for the presidential nomination in 1972.
I’ve been holding this one for a few days for reasons, but KVUE has a nice tribute to Robert “Bob” Reale. Mr. Reale was the founder and owner of Reale’s Italian Cafe, which is a swell Italian restaurant and a favorite of both myself and Lawrence.
Slain beauty queen Landy Párraga may have tipped off killers by posting photo of octopus ceviche
I really do need to do that OPSEC post, don’t I?
They didn’t even have to look at the EXIF data.
Also, she was making the sign of the two-backed beast with a convicted drug lord, who was married to someone else.
“If my wife comes across anything about her, I’m screwed,” Norero had said of Párraga to Ángulo.
He reportedly added: “My friend, her name cannot come out anywhere. Otherwise, my world will come crashing down.”
The drug lord got whacked in prison. Authorities suspect that his widow is behind the assassination of Ms. Párraga.
America’s Test Kitchen recipe for Key Lime pie (archived).
If you live in Austin or Houston, or are in town for South by So What, Tumble 22 has a really really good chocolate cream pie.
William Post, one of nature’s noblemen.
Mr. Post was the creator of the Pop-Tart.
Post did numerous interviews about his invention during his lifetime and every time he said the credit was shared.
“Bill would say, ‘I assembled an amazing team that developed Kellogg’s concept of a shelf-stable toaster pastry into a fine product that we could bring to market in the span of just four months,’,” his death notice states.
Capt. Larry L. Taylor (United States Army – ret.) passed away on January 28th.
I wrote about Capt. Taylor back in September, when he received the Medal of Honor. Capt. Taylor is the guy who flew four men out of a hot LZ, with them hanging onto the sides of his Huey Cobra helicopter.
Bob Edwards, NPR guy. There was a time when I woke up to Bob Edwards in the morning…
Also among the dead Bobs: Bob Moore, founder of Bob’s Red Mill. I’ve bought and used specialty products from Bob’s, though I never met Bob. 94 is a pretty good run.
David Bouley, prominent NYC chef.
Kelvin Kiptum, marathon runner. He was 24 and died in a car accident in Kenya.
This seems particularly sad. He set the men’s marathon record in Chicago last year: 2:00:35.
…
Many people think he had a shot at running a marathon in under two hours, which is sort of the Holy Grail of marathon running. He actually ran one in Vienna (in 2019) at 1:59:40, but that didn’t count as a record for reasons. He had said he was going to try to break the two-hour mark in Rotterdam in April.
Professor Peter Schickele, of the University of Southern North Dakota at Hoople.
Damn it.
I was a big fan of Prof. Schickele and his interpretations of P.D.Q. Bach when I was younger. I still am, but I was when I was younger too. (If it’s been a while since I bought a PDQ Bach album, well, it’s been a minute since I bought any albums.)
Fun fact: he stole Philip Glass’s woman. (Well, okay, only sort of. You’ll have to read the obit for the full story. And that is supposedly a NYT “gift” link: please let me know if you have a problem.)
Worth noting: he wrote the score for “Silent Running”.
Crucially, there was the music, which betrayed a deeply cerebral silliness that was no less silly for being cerebral. Mr. Schickele was such a keen compositional impersonator that the mock-Mozartean music he wrote in P.D.Q.’s name sounded exactly like Mozart — or like what Mozart would have sounded like if Salieri had slipped him a tab or two of LSD.
Designed to be appreciated by novices and cognoscenti alike, P.D.Q.’s music is rife with inside jokes and broken taboos: unmoored melodies that range painfully through a panoply of keys; unstable harmonies begging for resolutions that never come; variations that have nothing whatever to do with their themes. It is the aural equivalent of the elaborate staircases in M.C. Escher engravings that don’t actually lead anywhere.
True story: once upon a time, I had just bought the new Schickele recording of a recently discovered P.D.Q. Bach work. Lawrence and I were sitting around our apartment listening to it when a friend came over for a visit. Said friend was (like us) a big fan of Glass and other minimalist composers. So we told our friend we had a new Philip Glass recording, and we wanted to play the first track for him.
He was fooled. Right up to the point where the slide whistle came in.
I was lucky enough to see him in performance…
…when he could still climb down a rope.
“They were playing a record in the store,” Mr. Schickele recalled in a 1997 interview for the NPR program “All Things Considered.” “It was a sappy love song. And being a 9-year-old, there’s nothing worse, of course. But all of a sudden, after the last note of the song, there were these two pistol shots.”
That song, he learned, was Mr. Jones’s “A Serenade to a Jerk.”
“I’ve always felt that those pistol shots changed my life,” Mr. Schickele continued. “That was the beginning of it all for me.”
Prof. Schickele also gave me a quote I have been known to use from time to time:
“Truth is just truth – you can’t have opinions about truth.”
John Brotherton, owner and pitmaster at Brotherton’s Black Iron Barbecue. The Saturday Dining Conspiracy has been there twice, and eaten there once. That’s not a shot at Mr. Brotherton, just a statement of reality. When you run a really good barbecue restaurant (which Brotherton’s is), your customers run the risk of the barbecue selling out before they get there.
Dejan Milojević, assistant coach for the Golden State Warriors. He was 46.
Lynne Marta, actress. Other credits include “The Misadventures of Sheriff Lobo”, “The F.B.I.”, and “Then Came Bronson”.
Some followups: Tom Shales in the NYT. And an appreciation of him by one of the NYT writers.
Nice obit for Terry Bisson by Michael Swanwick.
Michael Swanwick also has a touching piece up about his friend of 50 years, Tom Purdom, which I encourage you to go read.
So Mike the Musicologist and I went back to Tulsa for the Wanenmacher’s Tulsa Arms Show again last week. Left Wednesday, got back this past Monday night.
I don’t want to say it was a bad trip: it wasn’t, but it did seem kind of ill-fated from the start. No broken friendships, no car damage (though MtM did get a little love tap from behind on a San Antonio freeway – no harm done), no lost money, no hotel problems.
But I took the Tuesday off to pack, and instead of things going smoothly, it was a parade of petty annoyances, including a dryer that broke while I was doing laundry. (The laundromat on Hudson Bend near Lakeway is the grungiest one I’ve ever seen in my life.)
Then, once we got to Tulsa, I felt a little off my feed much of the trip. It seemed like I was having constant mild allergic reactions to something: watery nose, itchy skin, scratchy throat, etc. It was low level and didn’t keep me from enjoying myself, but it was enough to bother me.
(We’ve taken to getting a VRBO when we go, instead of a hotel room. That generally works out okay, though MtM often has criticism of the interior design of the homes we get.)
I didn’t buy any guns at the show. I did find a few I liked, including a S&W Model 53 with the 8 3/8″ barrel. But the seller wanted $2,300, which was more than I was willing to pay. I planned to go back before the show ended on Sunday and see if he’d take a lower offer, but when we got there at 2 PM (show closes at 4 PM on Sunday) he’d already packed up and left. I saw a few other attractive guns (a Mannlicher stocked CZ .22 Hornet, a couple of Miroku clones of the Winchester 52 Sporter) but I was so worn out by that point I couldn’t muster the energy to go back for any of them. Plus they would have been consolation prizes, plus these shouldn’t be hard to find on GunBroker.
It seemed like the show had changed a little since Joe Wanenmacher’s death. I felt like there was more non-gun related junk (candy, jerky, toys, etc.) than there was previously. I personally didn’t hear any vendors complaining, but MtM told me he did. At least the “no scentsy” policy is still in effect.
I did pick up some books at the show which I will be cataloging. Additionally, while we were running around in the days before the show, MtM and I found what seems to be the only used bookstore in Tulsa: Gardner’s Used Books. It is a big sprawling place. I wasn’t expecting much…
…and I walked out with a large box totaling $110 (after a 20% discount for spending over $100) of old gun books and gun magazines. Including some old Gun Digest volumes for the ongoing project (the two earliest being 1960 and 1962: the 1962 one has a particularly cool illustration of a .22 Jet on the cover. That’ll make a good prop when I find one.) and a bunch of American Handgunner annuals and other ephemera. I’m probably not going to catalog all of the box individually, but I may highlight a few specific things I find interesting.
One of the other days we took to visit the U.S. Marshals Museum in Fort Smith, Arkansas. (That’s only about two hours from Tulsa.) The museum just opened in July, and, while it was a nice place to visit and we had a lot of fun, it feels kind of big for the number of exhibits they have. I’m kind of hoping that they plan to bring in even more stuff, and next time when we drag a friend there, it’ll feel a bit more fleshed out.
We had good meals at:
We had dinner Saturday night with one of my Association friends at a Billy Sims BBQ. The ‘cue was good, but the experience was odd. We actually thought they were closed when we pulled up around 7:30. It wasn’t closed, but they had turned off half the lights in the restaurant so it looked that way from the outside. That left the other half in sort of a semi-dark state, which was mildly annoying but didn’t upset our digestion or our conversation too much.
We also had lunch at a diner type joint in the same center as the Billy Sims, but I can’t remember the name of it for the life of me. If MtM texts it over to me, I’ll update here. (Update 11/17: MtM informs me that it was Ron’s Hamburgers & Chili, which seems to be a regional chain.)
Next trip to Tulsa for Wanenmacher’s is tentatively scheduled for April of 2025. I’m hoping I can drag along recruit a couple more friends to join us on that trip. However, the 2024 S&WCA Symposium is there next June, so I will be going back for that (good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise).
Dr. James Irving Wimsatt, professor emeritus at the University of Texas at Austin, passed away Sunday morning, He was 96.
Dr. Wimsatt was a personal friend of mine, and of many other readers of this blog. I met him through his son, Andrew.
He was a great guy. I always felt intimidated by him: I described him to someone (no disrespect intended, Andrew) as “scary smart and tough as a bus station steak”. He was walking several miles a day on a regular basis well into his 90s. And he remained in full possession of his facilities pretty much right up until his death (though he’d been in and out of hospitals and rehab).
I thought this was kind of a neat entry from encyclopedia.com:
He wasn’t just a Chaucerian, though my understanding is he was a damn good one. He also wrote a lot about other poets. Dr. Wimsatt was kind enough, at one point, to give me a copy of his Hopkins’s Poetics of Speech Sound. I haven’t read it yet, being backlogged, but I wish I had before he passed.
He also served honorably in the US Navy. And he was a pretty regular member of the Saturday Dining Conspiracy.
“He that loveth God will do diligence to please God by his works, and abandon himself, with all his might, well for to do.”
–Geoffrey “Big Geoff” Chaucer
I believe that Dr. Wimsatt did indeed please God by his works, and he’s up there laughing with all those other English professors of that generation.
(Crossposed to the Logbook of the Saturday Dining Conspiracy.)
I’m aware of Suzanne Somers, but all the obits I’ve seen so far have been preliminary. I think I’ll wait until tomorrow on this one.
Other credits include two episodes of the 1985-1986 “Twilight Zone” revival, “The Bunker”, “The Eleventh Hour” and “Breaking Point” (both of which I was just recently reading about, and which I would love to see on home video), and three episodes of “St. Elsewhere”.
Colette Rossant, cookbook author and popularizer of French food. She may have been a bit obscure for most of you: I know of her because she was a great friend of Calvin Trillin, and he wrote about her multiple times in “The Tummy Trilogy”.
In a 1981 article in The Times with the headline “The Inspirations of a Global Cook,” Craig Claiborne, the newspaper’s august food critic, wrote that he “found it impossible to refuse an invitation to a Rossant meal, which turned out to be a feast,” including a blend of fresh and smoked salmon christened with rillettes of fish as an appetizer, a roast of veal “cooked to a savory state in milk” and other delicacies.
Mr. Claiborne noted that Mr. Trillin, the celebrated author, humorist and food writer, had once written that whenever he was invited to dine at Ms. Rossant’s, his wife, Alice, was “forced to grab me by the jacket two or three times to keep me from breaking into a steady, uncharacteristic trot.”
Tommy Gambino, of Gambino family fame.
He was the nephew of “Big Paul” Castellano, who succeeded Carlo as the head of the family but was rubbed out in 1985 on the orders of eventual Gambino godfather John Gotti.
Tommy Gambino arrived at Sparks Steakhouse on East 46th Street just moments after Castellano and his driver, Tommy Bilotti, were gunned down outside the eatery.
Tommy Gambino, once described as the a “quintessential Mafia prince of New York City,” was convicted in 1993 of two counts of racketeering and racketeering conspiracy for controlling gambling and loan sharking operations in Connecticut.
He served in federal prison from 1996 to 2000.
The prosecution’s evidence in his trial included secretly recorded conversations with Mafia turncoat Salvatore “Sammy the Bull” Gravano.
