Lots of Labor Day celebrations this weekend. Great pizzas by Chef Maureen at Cheryl/Barry D's yesterday while listening to co-PHS Mark bullshit about his pool prowess (nonexistent). Next Jazz Fest, a clear headed Johnny Gumbo (this year he was, shall we say, e-harmoniously distracted) will be back in top form to help regain the pool hall title first captured at Polynesian Joe's in the Warehouse District, where the Pool Hall Studs claimed we won only because THEY were too drunk, and defended numerous times at Ryan's Pub before they removed the table for unruly patron behavior. Man up, guys. Chicago?Saturday afternoon, post-golf, found The Reet and I venturing up I84/I90 to Framingham for the annual McGowan corn fritter fry. Red Hot Chili Peppers on the dusty radio as we (well, I observed) grilled up the corn batter into delicious fritters to be served with sliced tomato and bacon. Not sure it's on my approved listing of foodstuffs, but very tasty. Chatted with Sally W about New Orleans (her daughter Kiki/son-in-law derek live there). Derek played sax with the Iguanas, but recently split from them; saw him up in Northampton at the Iron Horse backing James Hunter a couple years back. Daughter Kiki makes jewelry and has a booth at Jazz Fest. Sally recommends that we dine at Bayona in the Quarter.
Still waiting for someone to solve the latest Chuck. Money is on former Westie Punk Gus. (Hint: count the catch)
Here's some mellow James Hunter for your Labor Day morning:
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