Day: September 30, 2002

The Big Dig We Must

It’s somehow comforting to realize that, after all the years of construction, heavy machinery, foundation problems, and everything, the biggest threat to the two big sections of the Big Dig opening on time is… software. Or, more precisely, software plus all the infrastructure needed to run it. (Why is it that no one thinks until it’s too late about avoiding the need for “temporary… leased phone lines or microwave” data lines?) It’s not like they didn’t know they were going to need software a long time ago…

Like I said, though, it’s comforting to know that the software is the “make or break” for the opening of the tunnel. Software, after all, can be fixed, and everyone’s software is bad.
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There’s good news…

An unexpected letter today from my friend Dan in DC. A while back when I was singing with Suscipe Quaeso Domine (aka the Suspicious Cheese Lords), we used to joke about doing a joint concert with the Mediaeval Baebes. (The Baebes were founded by Katharine Blake from Miranda Sex Garden and exemplified a female version of our attitude toward medieval music, only with sexy costumes.) Since the group was UK based, I finally, reluctantly assumed nothing would ever come of it.

Fast forward to today, when I receive a card from Dan. He writes, “Now that you’re in the West I’m not sure if you keep up-to-date on the Mediaeval Baebes. This year, they played the Maryland Renaissance Festival, and several of your old Cheeselord clan was in attendance. They managed to meet the Baebes, and they got you the enclosed signed and lipsticked token.”

Inside was a postcard announcing the new album. On the back: signatures and one lip print from the Baebes, including Ruth, Marie, Cylindra, Audrey, and Teresa, among others.

As Opus once said, “I got the best friends in all known space!!!”
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Summing up undergrad in half an hour

The recruiting panel for the University of Virginia last night was fun. Assistant Dean Shawn acquitted himself nobly. The panel discussion was good, though at one point a bit awkward (“What’s the alcohol policy? And how many students drink anyway? And what about outside the dorms?” Umm…). At the end, we were asked to sum up our first impressions and how they changed by the end. My rambling version could be condensed to this: “When I arrived I was a little in awe. I mean, Thomas Jefferson! The man was President, and he left that off his tombstone, but put on that he founded the University! But by the end I felt like the school was my family.”

I drove away feeling that my description had been inadequate. But on further reflection I realized it would have to be inadequate. How do you do justice to a place and an experience that made you an adult and a leader? that took a boy and put him on the road to manhood?
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Mario in the house

We watched Mario Batali make orecchiette with sausage and broccoli rabe yesterday afternoon in front of a large crowd at the Festa Italiana Seattle. He was appropriately fun and informative, explaining the rationale behind using hard semolina flour for his orecchiette, then busting a little on Emeril (he added a clove of garlic to the sauce he was cooking and said, “Bam. Now you’ll notice that’s the only ingredient that makes a noise going in…. Don’t get me wrong, I like Emeril a lot. But we have different styles. I prefer to let the food do the talking.”)

Mario also managed to set a towel on fire. He had been letting his saute pan heat over a gas burner, and as soon as he added oil flames jetted up a good two or three feet into the air. He said, “Now when this happens in our kitchen we don’t get loud or panicky. We just say, ‘Smokey, put that fire out!’” He then proceeded to try to smother the flames with a towel, which promptly caught fire. He tossed it to the stage and stomped it out into the green plastic carpet. Afterwards his dad (who runs a great salumeria in Seattle) crept onto the stage to retrieve the towel and could be heard saying, “It’s stuck…”

Afterwards we tried out some of his dad’s salumi, which were tremendous, and got an autographed copy of Babbo, Mario’s cookbook. It was a good time.
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