In 1998, on my first trip to NYC, accompanied by my friend James, I met Timothy J. and Timmy in person for the first time. Another special someone suggested I do one really touristy thing while there, so he took Tim and me to the top of the Empire State Building.
I’d taken my Canon 35mm on my trip, but it was large, so I purchased a smaller Canon in NYC that slipped easily into my coat pocket.
It also slipped easily out of my coat pocket, into the back of a cab, with a finished roll of film inside that included most of my great photos of the Tims as well as my shots of the Special Someone with Tim and me at the Empire State Building.
Occasionally, I try out various phrases in Google pictures to see if anyone developed my film and tried to get the pictures back to me. Amazingly, this actually happens for lots of other sad tourists. If only craigslist had existed back in 1998.
Weird shit happens as you age. I’m not talking about the way things sag, wrinkle, and gray. Everyone knows that. I’m talking about brand loyalty.
I grew up a Crest kid. Oh, sure, I’d indulge myself in an occasional fling with an Aim or a Colgate. I was briefly tempted by Pearl Drops. (Mmmmm, it’s a great feeling!) Thanks to Farrah, there was even that summer interlude with Ultra-Brite. But I always came back to Crest.
Then there was Secret. You know, it was made FOR ME. A woman.
But as I entered my pre-menopausal years, things changed. Secret wasn’t so secret. I abandoned it for Adidas. Which, oddly, smells good instead of like tennis shoes. And Crest seemed to lose its flavor. But so far, I just can’t give it up. Probably my last grin will be a Crest grin.
So, The Deal is one year old this month.
I can’t believe twelve months have passed since its release. And then I remember writing two books since then and it seems like a decade.
And even though it’s a year old, it still gives us a little surprise now and then. Mail from a new reader. Possible future plans for it.
Thank you, Timothy J. Lambert, for being such a great writing partner.
And now, looking forward to September.
It’s the first day of spring and I just saw a yellow butterfly. It’s not the first butterfly I’ve seen this year, but still, I’ll take it as a good omen. I’ll take all the good omens I can get.
One time (at band camp) at Baba Yega’s, one of my favorite Montrose eateries, I shared my lunch with a butterfly. It landed on a piece of melon and stayed with me, drinking, for nearly half an hour. Better than watching the Discovery channel!
I recently went to Baba Yega’s for the first time in quite a while. I remember when it was a dumpy little place with great food. Then there was a kitchen fire and they renovated, and it was nicer and still had great food.
One of its best features was the garden. A rock fountain, pond, exotic birds, tons of beautiful water flowers surrounded by other flowering plants always in bloom… It was great to eat a relaxed lunch, wander through the garden and talk to the birds, then exit through Wild Earth, their metaphysical shop, which was a source for the essential oils, herbs, and stones and crystals I use in my bodywork and energy work practice.
It’s changed again. Wild Earth is gone. I guess they’re expanding an express feature of the restaurant into that space. The birds are gone. When I was there, the doors to the garden were closed. I don’t know if that was because of the cool weather or if lingering in the garden is no longer encouraged.
The food is still fine, but it’s not as much fun–nor does the brisker pace encourage you–to watch the clientele. The patrons could be picked up and set down in any suburban Bennigan’s or TGI Friday’s and blend into the unauthentic decor. Yet another Montrose establishment adapting to the changes of the last ten years. I miss the grittier, edgier Baba Yega’s…and Montrose.
Hunter S. Thompson
1937 – 2005
My favorite all-time HST quote: “When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.”
Thank you for making me laugh and think and question and rage, all without the benefit of strong hallucinogens—because you did them for me. Your voice will be missed because the going has never been weirder.