Here is the schedule for this year's Madison Polish Film Festival which again takes place over the course of 2 Sundays:
9 November
3:00 p.m. CHOPIN, CHOPIN (2025)
While in Birmingham I bought a bag of African coffee from 200ยบ Coffee. At some point I will rant about the English and their coffee culture (tea still rules the roost over there, it seems) but know that I stopped in at 2 of their shops. It was at the second that I asked what a "Brew Bar" was and discovered much to my delight that it was drip coffee.
Don't get me started on Americanos.
Anyway, I recently busted out their beans.
It was delicious! Earthy, roasty with a bit of stonefruit. Exactly why African coffees are my favorites.
47 years since this great show from Genesis. Broadcast on the radio, this show is legendary.
Some scenes from my trip to Boston. Well, the Boston area as I was only in Boston proper when I was at the airport. Rather my trip was spent in Concord, Framingham, Haverhill, Somerville, Groveland, Methuen, and Beverly.
I landed at Logan and got a car. Then it was off to Concord for a pilgrimage to Walden Pond.
Massachusetts had a lot more color than we do here and it was gorgeous. But more importantly, it was absolutely sublime. My heart was beating out of control as I crossed the road and entered Walden Pond State Reservation. I went down to the main beach and hit the Pond Trail which runs along the shore, 1.7 miles, if I recall correctly. My excitement could barely be contained at walking where Henry David Thoreau's footfalls landed and I became consumed with awe.
My nose was enraptured by the smell of pine as I ambled down the trail. It smelled wonderful! I felt like a little kid and ran my hands through the evergreen needles on the boughs I was walked past. Looking up into the trees and then over at the pond, sniffing the pine, feeling the sun upon my skin - it was the blooming and buzzing awe at the majesty of Nature.
At one point I realized that I had missed the site of Thoreau's cabin and so, after I finished the loop, I started it again. The caretakers of Walden aren't exactly enamored of signs so it took a little wayfinding along with some wrong turns before I found it.
A reproduction of his cabin has been erected by the visitors center along with a statue of the man.
Just perfect. I love this statue because it captures one of Walden's main themes: how to live one's life?
What a tremendous, soul shaking experience. I shall never forget it.
I wasn't through with Concord and returned the next day to investigate Sleepy Hollow Cemetery.
It features Authors Ridge where the graves of Thoreau, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Louisa May Alcott, and Ralph Waldo Emerson lie. It took me a while but I finally found it.
Thoreau ran the family pencil business, you see, in addition to being a writer.
I was also in the area to visit an old friend and his family. He and I went out sightseeing one day and I caught St. Joseph catching some rays one evening at St. Basil's Seminary.
We also went out to sample some seafood which I had neglected to do last year in Boston.
Why yes The Simpsons did come to mind.
My friend and his Frau got their daughter a kitten. She was adorable with the cutest ear tufts.
My trip was timed purrfectly for another reason:
Madison's own Forward Marching Band represented the Dairyland.
I kinda sorta vaguely know one of the members. When I said hello between songs I was most unexpectedly given a big hug which meant more to me than I think this person knew. (Hugs mean so much to me right now so thanks!) I was representing Wisconsin with my Ski-Hi Fruit Farm t-shirt and 2 of the band members knew someone who worked there and so I got a nod of approval from Anna Purnell during a song and the other woman came over to me afterwards and asked to take a photo of me with her so that she could send it to her friend who worked there.
HONK! was marvelous and I "danced" the whole time. It felt great to move my body.
Afterwards my friend and I had dinner. I ate a Korean Hot Cheetos corn dog so you don't have to.
With our bellies full, it was off to The Cabot to see Steve Hackett. It was a special night as I had gotten my friend into Genesis back in the sixth grade when I handed him my copy of A Trick of the Tail and said knowingly, "Listen to this..." He'd never seen Hackett live which only added to the magic of the night.
It was a fantastic show. "Shadow of the Hierophant" was fantastic as usual and the extra soloing at the end of "Supper's Ready" was again transcendent. Plus The Lamb material was simply spectacular. And I love love love "Circo Inferno", one of Hackett's newest pieces.
Besides all of this fun & excitement, it was sheer joy spending time with my friend and his family. His daughter has grown into a precocious nine and a half year old and I am slowly getting to know his wife. We all watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail and played Cards Against Humanity, Family Edition. And his wife cooked a tasty Lebanese dinner.
My friend and I also found time for some heart to heart conversation where we discussed our marriages and our lives.
The trip was only a few days long but it was packed with activities and music, with shared meals and communion. It was an intense long weekend and I am still processing it all. So many thoughts fill my mind about what I experienced and heard.
In Walden Thoreau asked how one should live one's life and I find myself asking that question frequently lately as I move into another chapter, as I start mine over in certain ways. What do I want my life to be like once my divorce is over? Is how I feel now going to continue when I am a bachelor once again?
I am preparing to move out of our marital residence and will soon be living alone for the first time in my life. Well, living without another human as I will have Piper. That I shall feel lonely is certain and I need to figure out how to confront the loneliness, to keep it at bay. Perhaps to use it for my own ends?
Having said all this, I do feel that I have been living more deliberately since my divorce began and I take solace that this can provide a foundation for building a new life, for figuring out how to live.
On my recent trip to the Boston area I was able to get to Framingham and stop in at Jack's Abby, Massachusetts' premier all lager brewery.
I cozied up to the bar, retrieved a beer menu, and was delighted to find not one but two rauchbiers! The first one that I tried was Fire in the Ham.
While not endowed with catchiest of names, it was excellent and just what I needed after my flights and hiking around Walden Pond for a few hours. This seemed to be their take on Schlenkerla's rauch Helles. It was pale and had that classic beechwood smoke taste with a nice, soft breadiness too. The lovely maltiness was balanced with just the right amount of Nobley hops.
The second one I had tried last year in Boston and was eager for more - Smoke & Dagger. This stuff is a dark lager with a dash of smoke. It tasted extra smooth this time, almost as if it were on nitro. A generous roasty taste was aided and abetted by a smoky accent. Delicious.
While it would be really nice to have Jack's Abby's brews here in Madison, I rather like having to go to their homeland to enjoy them. It makes them special and gives me yet another thing to look forward to on my annual trips to Boston.
Since my divorce started, friends both new and old have lent their hands and ears, have helped me in so many ways, big and small, it's hard to count. From a simple text of "I really appreciate you" to sacrificing their backs to help me move my possessions into storage, people have really stepped up for me and I am both humbled and grateful.
Recently a woman who is the friend of a friend that I have only met a handful of times immediately opened her home to me and Piper when she heard that I needed a new place. Like I noted previously, divorce is not something you do alone.
Today's song of the day:
The company I choose is solidly singular
Totally trustworthy, straight and sincere
Polished, experienced, witty and charming
So why don't you push off, this company's my own
A friend and I had dinner at Petra Bakery and Restaurant last week and it was mighty tasty. I had the Shawarma topped Fattoush Salad - beef shawarma.
I foolishly ordered the large salad. Still, I somehow managed to pack it all in my gut though I was quite full. My companion, on the other hand, was much smarter and stopped when she was sated. She ended up taking home enough leftovers for another meal.
Not shown: the almond baklava and chocolate-hazelnut Turkish delight that I also bought. Again, delicious.
The sky this morning.
I went out to my car a couple days ago only to find some turkeys loitering on the north side of the house. They looked to be rather young.
And of course there's Piper, my sweetie pie cat. She had a rough weekend as I spent it packing and moving my stuff out with the able assistance of various friends who really stepped up to help. I hope to have a new home for her soon.
At some point the decline and fall of my marriage so preoccupied my mind that I failed to keep up with Andrew Cartmel's The Vinyl Detective series. Forsooth!
Once I became conscious of the situation I set out to rectify it by putting in an order for the 2 latest entries in the series. Many thanks to Mystery to Me.
They arrived in time for my UK trip and I brought them with me.
I managed to finish Noise Floor while across The Pond. As always, it was a very fun read. It sees TVD and his partner Nevada being hired to find Lambert Ramkin, a.k.a. Imperium Dart, an EDM god from the 90s who has gone missing and his wives are very concerned. As always, Tinkler is ably assisting his friends when not making lewd comments.
The dialogue is fast-paced and witty as usual. Plus the retro-faux-rave scene gave me 90s flashbacks.
Underscore was no less fun. Here, TVD & Nevada are hired to find a rare soundtrack album to a giallo classic called Murder in London and Bikini of Blood and The Black Dog Murders, et al. The seeker is the granddaughter of composer Loretto Loconsole.
Plenty of banter about wine and coffee, Tinkler is in fine form, and the Swingin' Sixties sounds like it was a hoot. Not a whole lot of Agatha here as she is busy elsewhere much of the time, though her driving skills are utilized in a life or death situation as usual. As with Noise Floor, Nevada takes the lead more often than in previous books. I think. It's been a while since I've read the predecessors.
In addition to The Vinyl Detective, I also enlisted Mystery To Me to help me catch up on the Rivers of London series by Andrew Cartmel's pal, Ben Aaronovitch. I have so far received the latest entry in that series, the novel, Stone and Sky, which came out this summer, but I am still waiting on the novella from last year, The Masquerades of Spring.
While in Birmingham I had my first visit to a Waterstones, which I gather is a bit like their Barnes & Noble. I found exactly what I was looking for, a history of the city.
I saw Mavis Staples on Wednesday night down in Stoughton and it was glorious! Such joy and positivity. She has slowed down in her mid-80s but her performance was still spirited and simply wonderful.
Scenes from yesterday's walk.
And here's Piper giving the hooman the stink eye.
"Why are you disturbing me as I sleep in front of your keyboard, hooman?"
It was just before 6 on Sunday morning as my coffee brewed filling the air with its luscious roasty aroma, when I texted my youngest stepson to see how he was. I'd taken him grocery shopping the day before and he wasn't in the best of head spaces then.
Not well, it turned out. He said he was spiraling. It was a continuation of Saturday.
As my Noch-Frau can attest, I am particularly not good at dealing with people who are afflicted with mental health issues. But I am trying to get better. I think it helps that I now only have to really deal with one person and their problems instead of two. While I wish my Noch-Frau all the best, I am unconcerned about her health issues unless they compel her to turn violent which is something I fear they will at times.
I feel powerless when faced with mental illness wreaking havoc.
My toolkit for these situations has only a few things in it.
1) A hug.
2) Buying something for them.
3) Getting them out of their environment and, hopefully, into Nature. Get that fix.
4) Talking.
{Is this really all I've got?}
I asked him if there was anything he could think of I could do for him. Then I asked if he wanted to go for a walk and he assented.
When the coffee had finished brewing, I poured some of the dark elixir into my travel mug and hit the road for Sun Prairie where he lives. With him seated and seat belted next to me, we were then off to Morton Forest.
It was a lovely morning, not too long after dawn.
There was still fog hugging the ground in some spots.
I went a bit crazy with lens flares.
The air was rich and pungent with the green aromas of summer hanging on before these ridiculous 80 degree temps depart and autumn truly sets in.
The hike was a success, I suppose you could say. That is, it helped the kid get out of the spiral even if for just a short time. All 4 things in my toolkit were put to use this past weekend and I think they all helped to some extent or another. In a palliative sense, I guess you could say.
We had dinner together later that evening. Again, being out and about was very good for his state of mind. My unprofessional opinion is that he needs to spend less time in front of a computer screen and more time out in nature, out enjoying the company of other human beings while in the same space as them and not some inferior experience mediated by a computer.
But that's just me. My understanding is that his therapy is done via computer. Convenient, perhaps, for him and his therapist, but I suspect its efficacy is diminished without face-to-face contact. I sure hope not, though.
While in Birmingham I dropped into the Great Western Arcade to pay a visit to Mr. Simms Sweet Shop. I found a few Halloween treats on offer but what really caught my attention, well, besides the giant logs of marzipan, were the Ultra Sours which came in various strengths. I bought the variety pack and brought it in to share the deadly sourness with my co-workers.
The bag comes replete with a warning to indulge in moderation lest your stomach suffer the consequences.
I randomly pulled out this one.
Water melancholy!
Oh mama, it was sour! Those sugar crystals on the outside were powerless against the massive onrush of sourness. My face contorted in response and I think my eyes well with tears.
They're hard candies with a liquid center. I am unable to determine if the filling is mildly sour or sweet because my tongue is simply unable to taste sweetness after that blast of whatever acids these things are coated in.
Delicious!
A few days ago I did my first float at Float Madison. Lying in a tub filled with warm, salty water in the dark sounded like a nice way to relax and let my divorce stress just leech out of me and be washed away by a cleansing saline bath. So I scheduled a session for August but my new tattoo forced me to reschedule.
I arrived a bit before my scheduled time to go through orientation. As I was stepping in the front door, a woman walked in behind me. She promptly sat down on the lobby's couch and took off her shoes like a veteran floater. I presumed this wasn't her first time. A bearded gentlemen came in, greeted her by name, and she then shuffled off into the back. He turned to me and asked that I take off my shoes and put on a pair of rubber sandals. I did so and he then led me to a room of dancing shadows, er, I mean a float suite.
The lights were dim and a relaxing blue radiated from the float tank making me feel like I was in a bathroom in the mansion from Eyes Wide Shut. My host proceeded to give gave me his spiel.
["Skippy did a bad, bad thing." Is that how it goes?]
Once I was all clean, I carefully entered the float chamber not wanting to slip and get another head injury. They also have pods but I felt I wanted a little more verticality to my experience and went with one of the the more capacious chambers on offer.
So there's the tub with 10" of warm water below and a spangled ceiling above. All the lights were of a lovely cobalt hue and entering the chamber had a relaxing, if a bit surreal, effect. I got in, sat down, and closed the portal. There were separate controls for the tub and ceiling lights as well as one to adjust music volume.
Since this was all new to me and I had no idea what to do, I laid back and then turned off all the lights hoping for a kind of Altered States experience, although I left the music, which was your stereotypical unobtrusive ambient kind of stuff, on low volume. (I think Brian Eno should do an album called Music for Floats.) The earplugs reduced the volume further and the synth waves became this gentle, barely audible melody floating in the background. Oh. I refrained from psychedelics.
It was dark. Very dark. (I prayed that there were no grues about.) It was like looking into a void. THE void, if you know what I mean. I hoped that it didn't gaze back if for no other reason than I was buck naked and a bit self-conscious.
I have never meditated and the Float folks emphasize that their flotation experiences are fine aids to mediation/mindfulness routines. So, with the lights out I had no idea what to do. I began by concentrating on my breathing.
In. Out. In. Out.
This may be salubrious for some folks but it merely made me acutely aware that my nose was a bit stuffy. Without visual stimulation as a distraction and my ears securely plugged, I felt myself becoming more conscious of my body in the general sense. Ere long I noticed that my front was a bit cooler than my back so I turned the lights on to see just how much of me was submerged and it turned out not that much as most of me was floating above the surface. That's what a crap ton of Epsom salt will do. I became aware of various bodily activities that are normally blocked out from my consciousness such as all the water and diet 7UP I had drunk before the float gurgling away as it wended its way through my digestive system. I also noticed that the salt made my skin feel slick. Not just smooth, but slick. Yes, I know how stoopid it sounds saying that something wet is slick but my epidermis felt slick in a way it does not in the shower at home. What does Epsom salt do?
My headache slowly faded to a dim throb and I took the proprietor's advice and put my arms up with my hands above my head. I began to splash with one of my fingers as the sound reminded me of the middle bit of "Take a Pebble" where you hear the splashes behind Lake's beautiful guitar picking. I got carried away and quickly learned to be more gentle as some droplets landed precariously close to my eyes. When I began daydreaming, I found that I was becoming progressively more relaxed. As in a deep down body relaxation. Is this where I'd regress into a caveman? If so, those filters would be working overtime.
I am not sure if I regressed because I fell into the arms of Morpheus. My guess is that I slept for 15-20 minutes but I cannot say with any certainty. All I know is that one minute I am thinking about a particular person and the next the lights are on and the music is gradually increasing in volume signalling the end of my float.
I made my egress from the chamber and once again hit the shower. After dressing I went into the lobby where I put my shoes back on and chatted briefly with the proprietor. I was indeed very relaxed yet invigorated at the same time. Float offers a lounge where you can drink tea and enjoy your post-float glow. I, however, had a cat to feed so I crossed Wilson Street where there was a bus stop. Standing there just looking down the street, I felt dislocated but in a good way. I couldn't remember what day it was for a minute and I felt like I was somewhere else too. No place in particular, just not downtown Madison.
I think these feelings were abetted by the fact that it was dusk, that liminal time between light and darkness. Groups of young folks were walking to what I presumed were taverns, talking and laughing amongst themselves. There was still some daylight left yet the cars and building had lights on. It was cool but still very much shorts weather.
It was just lovely out and things just felt right.
While in the UK I did my level best to eat what American tourists think of as traditional English fare such as scotch eggs, full English breakfast, sausage roll, curry, etc. Upon returning home, I was keen to cook.
The first thing I prepared were meatballs to go along with fresh linguini from RP's Pasta and jarred sauce.
Like a fool I wandered into the duty-free store at the Birmingham airport and let the kind sales lady steer me to the local booze stand where I saw this:
Smoked rum! How could I resist when I am auto-addicted to any smoked food?
Burning Barn is a distillery in the Birmingham area, not sure where exactly, though. It was fantastic. A nice molasses taste, a bit woody, with a delicious smokiness that provides a gentle fruity-smokey accent.
Now I wish I had also bought some local gin.
I had the finest dining companion yesterday at Full Mile Beer Co. and Kitchen. They went with the Oktoberfest while I had the Festbier.
My bier was the pale one on the left. Since I've had very limited experience with Full Mile's brews, I didn't know what to expect. What I got was a very impressive Festbier. It had that lovely toasty bread flavor, full of Maillard goodness. Unexpected for an American brewery but most welcome.
Great stuff, Full Mile.
