GREENWELL: Ultimate Frisbee Part one — The Tournament
Sep 15th
Every time I tell someone that I play Ultimate Frisbee, they assume one of two things.
Greenwell
They usually ask, you mean Frisbee Golf with the baskets? Or the more popular, like fetch with your dog? It always makes me laugh when people assume that Frisbee is a laid back, bros-on-the-quad, hackey sack rival for a past time. Consider this an attempt to inform you that Ultimate Frisbee is one of the most physically and athletically demanding sports I have ever played (and I’ve played just about every sport except tennis and hai alai).
Don’t believe me? I strongly urge to take a look at this highlight real from a 2009 UPA (Ultimate Players Association) tournament, which will give my point much more validity.
Did you know that Quincy has its own Ultimate Frisbee team? It’s a fact. Lead by quasi-coach Corey Miller, Quincy plays every Sunday at 2 p.m. and Wednesday at 5 p.m. at South Park soccer field during the season (spring, summer, and fall). We strongly urge people to come down to learn and participate. Ultimate players are known for their genuine love for the game, love for teaching people how to play game, patience and encouragement.
So what is Ultimate (as it is more commonly referred)? I stole this definition directly from UPA’s website: “[Ultimate is a] Player defined and controlled non-contact team sport played with a flying disc on a playing surface with end zones in which all actions are governed by the ‘Spirit of the Game.”
Let me elaborate. Ultimate is played with seven players, each with opposite end zones. A play begins when one of the teams (who loses a coin or “disc toss”) “pulls” or throws the disc down field to the other team. This is roughly comparable to a kick off in football. The offense or team in possession of the disc then works the disc down the field in this fashion: the person with the disc cannot move, only pivot, as if, in basketball, he/she picks the ball up after dribbling. Teammates have to move around this player, and the player throws it to them to move the disc toward the opposite end zone for a point. This isn’t easy because the seven players on defense are guarding the other players as they move around field. So, in order to move the disc up field, everyone is constantly running/sprinting or “cutting” to get open. Every game is played to an odd number (11, 13, or 15 in most cases).
The disc is in play as long as it is in the offense’s hands or in the air. The defense’s job is either to intercept the disc or knock it to the ground while in air. This is a turn over. If the disc is thrown or caught out-of-bounds, this is also a turnover. The offender with the disc only has ten seconds (counted stall 1, stall 2, stall 3…by the defender guarding him/her) to throw the disc down field or to another player on their team. If they fail to do this, it’s called a “stall” and is a turn over.
So where are the referees? Only the players. There are no referees in Ultimate. When UPA states that Ultimate is “player controlled,” that’s what they mean. The players make all there own calls as far as out-of-bounds and violations. There is the option to “contest” (literally by saying the word contest) if the opposing team feels the call was incorrect. If you want to know more about the official rules in terms of violations, I urge to check the UPA Ultimate Handbook.
There is no intended contact in Ultimate, only incidental. Aggressive behavior that results in contact is frowned upon and will get you kicked off the field. Ultimate is based on spirit, good sportsmanship, and celebrating each team/players athletic ability, dexterity, agility, and skill.
This past weekend, Quincy hosted its second annual Quincy Hat, 2010. This tournament is structured a little differently than most. You don’t bring a team. Via the internet, all participants sign and mail in a tournament fee of $10.00. They also rate themselves in terms of skill, experience, and athleticism on a scorecard designed by the tournament director. The tournament director then puts the names in a hat based on these ratings and teams are drawn out so they are essentially equal. You have no idea what team you are on and who your teammates are until you get there. It’s a great way to get to know and network with players from all the Midwest.
Ultimate Frisbee teams don’t play regular season games. Instead, competition consists of tournaments hosted by other teams or organizations. Tournaments are usually one or two days long, and each player is provided with unlimited free water, bananas (because potassium prevents cramping), and, sometimes, bagels or some form of carbohydrate. People from the Quincy team also play in several tournaments all over the Midwest. Here are just some of the 
tournaments Quincy players participate in:
- So. Ill. hosted by Southern Illinois University-Carbondale
- Party Hat hosted by Southern Illinois University-Carbondale
- Western Illinois University’s home tournament in Macomb, Ill.
- Jax Hat in Jacksonville, Ill.
- Summer Solstice in Tulsa, Okla.
- Sand Blast on Montrose Beach in Chicago
- Cooler Classic in Milwaukee, Wisc.
- Poultry Days in Versailles, Ohio
- Quincy Hat, in Quincy, Ill.
In addition to the United States, tournaments are also held worldwide. Some of the most common are played in Brazil, France, Italy, Canada, and Costa Rica.
Quincy Hat lasted all day Saturday. We had four teams of about 10 people each. Every team played each other in the morning. This lasted from 9 am to 1:30 pm. Then we took a lunch. After that, all the teams came back and the teams with the best records played each other for the championship. You can imagine how draining it is. It lasted until 5 pm, so that’s about 7 hours of running.
The beauty of ultimate is that it’s always a learning experience. There’s no gloating. No trash talking. Everyone is excited to be there, to meet other players, and to see awesome performances and plays. One of the coolest things to see is called a layout, in which the player with the disc leads a teammate by throwing it far out in front, and the player attempting the catch has to run and “layout” or dive to catch it. If you check the video link above, note that it’s on ESPN Sports Center.
This is part one of a two part blog. In the next blog, I will tell you a little about “The Party.” To be brief, every Ultimate tournament is followed by a party. You remember the tournament fee I mentioned earlier? $10.00. That doesn’t go to the actual tournament. If fact, most tournament directors take a hit finacially (in Tulsa, a nation wide tournament with hundreds of players, the director made $8.00 and for several hours of his time). That fee goes toward a t-shirt for everyone that plays and/or kegs of beer so every player drinks for free the night after the tournament. I told you Ultimate players were awesome.
Eric Greenwell
KELLEY: Birthday Trilogy Part Three — Drums, Sake, Fuji
Sep 15th
I was 32-years-old as of that morning and we spent much of the day in Central West End, St. Louis. As the afternoon shadows began crawling and stretching, Victoria and I drove home to Quincy to celebrate with my Mom, Sue, at Fuji Japanese Steak House.
Kelley
My colleague and fellow blogger, Eric Greenwell, wrote about Fuji once already. I highly encourage you to take a peek at his passage involving half-price sushi and martinis . Since Fuji is one of my Quincy haunts, as well, I would like to continue as though we’re in one of those hyperlink movies where the camera drifts from one character’s story to another.
Eric closes his entry with: “I would highly recommend it to unwind halfway through the workweek.”
And the camera tracks past Eric and girlfriend Belinda to a corner booth where the Kelleys — Chris, Victoria and Sue — and Megan Hale have just sat down.
Actually, Victoria and I had arrived just a moment or two earlier to say “hey” to Ryan at the bar and grab a quick pre-feast drink. Victoria had her usual, Ryan’s “Orchid” martini, and ordered a Ty-Ku Splash, which is a mix of Ty-Ky liqueur and some other stuff. My drink went down so fast, I was all “huh?” (in the parlance of our current youth).
In the past, we’ve sat at the hibachi grills, but I’m first and foremost a sushi man when it comes to Japanese cuisine. Plus, we’ve seen the routine so many times, I think I could actually perform the show (cue the laughter from the real, pro hibachi chefs). A booth and sushi, it was.
We ordered a few things from our list of favorites:
- Rainbow Roll
- Fancy Rainbow Roll
- Ocean Roll
- No-Name Roll
- Sexy Victoria Roll (named especially for my wife)
- Edamame with spicy sauce on the side
Sake is another of my favorite things. Usually, I go for a small bottle of the warm stuff, but as the heat checked in for a long stay, I was into the chilled Zipang sparkling sake — sake champagne, essentially. The manager tells me I’m the only one who buys it, which is a crime. Check it out. Try it once. Keep it in stock.
During our first ever visit to Fuji a year or two ago (you know, whenever they opened; I have no sense of time), a hibachi chef introduced us to our waiter as Jackie Chan’s Brother, which made it hard for me to order anything on the fly because I didn’t feel comfortable shouting out, “Hey, Jackie Chan’s Brother! More sake!” Throughout our dining relationship with Fuji, we’ve seen a lot of Jackie Chan’s Brother, whose real name is NOT Jackie Chan’s Brother and who is one of the nicest people I know.
When he discovered it was my birthday, he made sure I got the full show. #1 was a balloon hat made especially for me, which I put on right away. #2 was a drum show as a handful of staffers came out, some in masks, to sing. #3 was a birthday dessert.
Find me on the wall of photos as you walk in.
Christopher Kelley
GREENWELL: Alt Bier from a different perspective
Sep 13th
Clinton Begley, right, stirs the Alt Bier concotions.
I joined forces with fellow Local Q blogger Clint Begley last weekend. If you haven’t had the chance to check out his Alt Arts blog, I highly recommend it. If you are up to speed, you know that he has been writing a sub-blog (I don’t know if that’s the correct term, but let’s roll with it) entitled Alt Bier, all about the art of brewing your own beer from home.
Greenwell
He invited me and some friends to his house to check out the process and sample an IPA he brewed a while ago. I figure, I really like drinking the stuff, so I might as well take the time to learn how it’s made.
The truth is, Clint and I have been good friends (and even roommates at one time) for a while. He showed me how to make a camping stove out of a Stag beer can, some fiberglass fiber, and rubbing alcohol. I shot my first rifle in his presence. We also made a 72 inch home theater from a projector, some canvas, 2x4s, nails, and scotch tape. Needless to say, we’ve cooked up some odd and fun projects, so I was really excited about brewing.
Let me start things off with a little advice: If you’re going to invite people over, I think it should be a requirement that you own a bungalow style house with a huge front porch. I’m just saying, if you really want to be a good host, I highly suggest buying one before you plan on inviting me over to drink beer. With the temperature dropping from bearable to perfect, it was awesome to drink out on the front porch, talk to people walking buy, and wave at/antagonize traffic.
Clint prepped everything before we arrived, so it was like walking into a grown-up’s chemistry lab. There was a turkey fryer, propane tanks, tubes, ladles, tubs, ingredients, and fire everywhere. Clint also had a bunch of other beers from all around the country he let us drink. (Okay, did I say good host, I meant great host). My favorite was a beer brewed with ginger root in Colorado. It probably goes great with sushi. Unfortunately, I don’t recall the name, but I know it had a weird, Grateful Dead-esque label.
I’ll let you refer to Clint’s blog for the specifics because I am no expert, but I can tell you that brewing is no easy task. We were helping to brew a double IPA, which demands a lot more hops, grain, and grain sugars for flavor and aroma. We had to refer to a precise schedule for adding ingredients as Clint explained the different characteristics for each ingredient. We also had to make sure the temperature was consistent at all times. Clint was awesome about explaining everything while letting us interact and help brew. This was very gracious, considering there are many small details and microscopic pollutants that can adulterate and ruin a brew. You have to be very careful.
The best part about brewing had to be the smell. The entire time we cooked the grains and hops, the aroma continued to waft through the air. It was like walking through a light fog of sugary, subtle hints of earthy caramel for about three hours. I think that anyone, even people who prefer your run-of-the-mill Bud Light, Miller, or Coors could appreciate it.
All and all, it was a great experience. I like to go out, drink, and have a good time just as much as the next person, but the truth is I enjoy learning more than anything. I have always thrived in learning environments because I feel invigorated leaving somewhere knowing more than when I came. At Clint’s, I was fortunate to experience both. Now, when I pop the cap off a bottle of beer and take a drink, I can appreciate all the expertise and hard work that makes it taste so good.
Well, except Steel Reserve. No one appreciates Steel Reserve. That’s what we call a “last resort.”
KELLEY: Birthday Trilogy Part Two — Central West End
Sep 10th
Kelley
I awoke at the Renaissance Grand in downtown St. Louis at the brand new age of 32 after a glorious night of wine, hookah and a Moveable Feast. The sleep was terrible thanks to a mattress and pillow that begged for constant fluffing and punching all night long.
Because I get ready at near Superman changing speed, I decided to skip like a loon two blocks to the Culinaria (which is a fancy Schnucks corner market), while Victoria continued to get ready. The Culinaria carries my favorite coffee of all time: Kaldi’s Coffee. In addition to god-like coffee, Kaldi’s serves mostly natural, organic fare at a handful of locations across St. Louis, the best of which are at Boone’s Crossing near Chesterfield and in Clayton at the Crescent (an awesome line of shops near the Ritz Carlton). They didn’t serve food at the Culinaria’s Kaldi’s kiosk, just coffee and smoothies. But that didn’t matter; one cup of Grogg and a smoothie is worth the best of breakfasts.
Victoria and I sashayed to the downtown Macy’s which isn’t as cool as the downtown Macy’s in Chicago along Michigan Avenue. But, we shared a white chocolate peanut butter cup at the chocolate counter to kick off the day’s birthday celebration AND I found two Kenneth Cole sport coats for $20 a piece – original price: $395 each.
Afterward, we checked out of the hotel and drove to a highly praised organic restaurant called Farmhaus for an early lunch, which turned out to be a bust because you can’t order off the menu; they only serve one blue-plate special on weekdays and I didn’t feel like eating fried chicken and mashed potatoes.
We distracted our waitress (who already pretty much knew what was going to happen next) with the old standby: “What’s that?” and pointed towards a distant corner of the restaurant. When she looked to see what we were pointing at, we bolted with ninja-like agility, leaving only a midair napkin floating back down to our now vacant table.
Next stop: Wild Flower in Central West End.
Wild Flower is a nice, pub-looking restaurant on the corner of S. Euclid and Laclede where the consulting chef staged for celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay, which pretty much means he was invited to work for free…but what an honor!
Strawberries & Cream.
First, goat cheese fondu with bread, apples, celery & carrots. Then, some amazing sandwiches and soup, which, despite their deliciousness, could not compare to Chef Shupe’s offerings at Quincy’s own Thyme Square (seriously, if you haven’t been there for lunch yet…why not?). Some tasty wines, then we whirling dervished away.
A few blocks later, we were onto the Cupcakery – a terrific, fresh cupcake shop that is famous for its Strawberries & Cream cupcake. We arrived sometime in the noon hour and found that the Suit in front of us ordered the last two Strawberries & Cream and when we pulled a gun on him, the peaceful baker behind the counter assured us there were more fresh from the frosting table. Our order: two Strawberries & Cream and a white frosted cupcake with a birthday fondant chip.
I was really hoping for a dessert and a port from Bissenger’s, but it was closed due to the day’s Mondayness, so we walked to a place called Herbie’s, which used to be Balaban’s Café. Balaban’s is now located in Chesterfield, but Herbie’s ain’t bad. We met a bartender named Tony, who looks like a book smart Dave Chappelle. Tony poured me a 20-year, then a 30-year tawny port and gave me a chocolate fritter upon hearing it was my actual birthday.
Also at the bar was a corporate headhunter for law firms named Aaron who was writing notes, probably regarding some lucrative headhunting deal. Aaron described how his recent home-remodeling stress led him to planning a vacation:
“I called the travel agent and said I don’t care where you send me, but here are my rules: I want to be gone for a week. I want to HEAR the ocean; I don’t have to see it. I don’t want to have to rent a car. I don’t want a timeshare or condo. I want an all-inclusive place. I want to be waited on 24-hours a day. And I don’t want a commercial flight…put me on a private charter.”
I asked Aaron if he wanted any company. He invited my wife. “Aww, too bad, Chris, I only have room for one more.” Ha-ha.
He later suggested we come back to check out Clayton’s annual art show next month where they line an eight-block stretch of the city with art vendors and entertainment.
The hour was approaching two p.m. and we had more birthday celebration-like stuff to do back in Quincy. We said “Adios” to Aaron and book smart Dave Chappelle, walked back to our car, and drove home.
KELLEY: Birthday Trilogy Part One — Moveable feast
Sep 9th
Kelley
On the night before I turned 32 for the first time, we drove down to St. Louis for a special fine dining event presented by “Sauce Magazine” called Moveable Feast.
It’s a mysterious foodie experience with guest chefs from across the metro area, where you know nothing about who’s cooking, what you’re having or who else will be there until it happens. The only bit of information we were given in a secret, coded communique (which self-destructed after 15 seconds) was a time and a location — Philip Slein Gallery, at 6:30 p.m. in Downtown St. Louis,
We booked a hotel room at the Renaissance Grand knowing that cocktails and wine pairings were included with each course and that, such a factor, would leave none of us in a condition to travel home by headlights as the clock swung past midnight. With plenty of time to spare, we hit a few places downtown to set the mood.
The Culinaria, a classy Schnucks, invited us up to the wine loft for a quick tasting of a new wine after I searched the grocery aisles below for shoelace replacements because I don’t know my own strength and broke one of my own laces with my vice-like grip and tug. We found a bottle of Chateau Montelena Chardonnay for sale, which made me giddy because of my love for the film, “Bottle Shock” detailing the famous blind tasting in France where American Napa wine beat out the French wine. (We opened and tasted one week later and it was the best Chardonnay I’ve ever had.)
Bridge's Tap House
From there, onto another loft at a cool downtown spot called Bridge’s Tap House and Wine Bar where we sampled flights of different beers and wine and took suggestions about where to go next from a nice waiter named Justin.
Walking deeper into downtownon a quiet Sunday evening, a man who was talking to himself stopped and asked us for money and, not being used to that, I contemplated what to do and ended up walking on as if I couldn’t hear his request. For a moment afterwards, I felt rotten because I DID have money to spare.
A slow stroll across a few more blocks led us to Nara Café and Hookah Lounge, where we ordered a chocolate-y cocktail to share. And, yes, we fire up a hookah…you‘re darn tootin‘, as Jerry Lundegaard would say. Extreme Watermelon tobacco with a dash of some other flavor I can’t remember, burning with the help of a hot coal. We passed around the hose and smoked the cleanest-tasting, water-filtered tobacco I’ve ever had. I told my mom about it a few days later and she gave me one of those looks that moms give to grown children that says, “I disapprove, but there’s nothing I can do about it because you aren’t eleven anymore, but I’m still your mother and I can still give you this look.”
Philip Slein with Hamachi of Philip Slein Gallery.
6:30 p.m. — Philip Slein Gallery.
We walked in and were immediately greeted and introduced to the chef — Chris Lee from the restaurant SANCTUARIA.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Quincy, Illinois,” we said.
“QUINCY? How’s the food at Elders?”
Funny how famous Elders is.
Displayed on the Slein Gallery’s walls was an exhibit of “Sauce Magazine’s” photographs from over the years that made me self-conscious of my own ability to take pictures. “My work sucks,” I believe was the exact phrase I said.
We were guided to a cocktail station at the back of the gallery where a mixologist turned into a mad scientist and carefully potioned two signature drinks, one of which involved oranges and fire.
Philip Slein introduced himself to us and called us young, hip people. For awhile, I followed him as he met other guests to see if he used that line with everyone. He did not and so I took the compliment.
Chef Chris Lee
And then it was dinner time.
About thirty people in all were sitting together at three tables. There were six courses, plus an amuse bouche and intermesso. Chef Lee introduced each course with flair.
-Fresh ricotta stuffed fig with cider reduction
-Foie gras crème brulee and caviar filled duck egg (a truly unique sight)
-Wild musroom bisque with cinnamon-scented foam and a truffle macaroon.
-Duck, lamb, and smoked salmon cut like ham accented with green tomato chow chow and lavish
-Hamachi with watercress puree and jalapeno vinaigrette, tremella and red bliss crunch
-New style carnitas with preserved Meyer lemon, orange caramel, jade ball and pepper salad
-upside down peach cake with Belgium white ale ice cream with Bitter Chocolate candy
I don’t really know what a lot of that means, yet, but I do know that I enjoyed everything. It was one of the first tastings where I did not feel uncomfortably stuffed. All the food was correctly portioned — meaning a few bites with each course. Pardon me while I go British for two statements. Presentation: brilliant. Taste: spot-on.
Tony Bommarito from “A. Bommarito Wines” introduced each wine pairing and poured at our table.
Filled duck egg.
A jazz solo artist named Dawn with very red hair performed throughout the night and I wasn’t sure if I should look at her while she blew her horn and sang or if I should stare out into space as if I were REALLY paying attention to the music, which I was.
“Sauce Magazine” owner/publisher Allison, tinged her glass several times to make announcements.
I met with one of the photographers whose work was on display and we talked lighting and technique. We passed cards made indefinite plans to meet for lunch and talk more.
Philip Slein sat at our table and we discussed the decline of art-buying, as well as the food we were eating. We passed cards and made indefinite plans to see each other again soon.
St. Louis personality Gilberto Pinela was doing interviews and stand-ups for STL-TV. Philip Slein introduced us and Victoria took full advantage of the chat. Gilberto told me that I shouldn’t be ashamed of the chest hair poking out of my shirt. He passed along an invite to an invite-only party during St. Louis’s Fashion Week and we accepted. Victoria was excited at the prospect of new fashion; I was excited about the prospect of new cocktails.
The night ended when a nice St. Louis native-slash-Moveable Feast guest offered to drive us the six blocks back to our hotel and made crazy U-turns, honked and was honked at. We made it back before midnight and fell into an uncomfortable sleep on account of the terrible mattress, despite the coolness of the hotel.
I turned 32 and didn’t even know it.
KELLEY: Eat happy at the Lake Room
Sep 8th
I’m only going to mention Tony’s Too in the Holiday Inn next to Wal-Mart just a couple of times here, as I want you to separate The Lake Room from Tony’s Too as much as possible. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve recommended The Lake Room at Tony’s Too, only to hear “Yeah, we went there and it was just like the food at Tony’s Old Place.” Not that there’s anything wrong with the food at Tony’s Old Place or Tony’s Too; I would just like to be able to single out the creative food by Chef Kevin Minnick.
Kelley
It’s confusing. You have to walk into Tony’s Too and say, “I would like The Lake Room menu, please,” because there are two completely different menus to satisfy both traditional Quincy food tastes and fine dining. But, hopefully, you’ve called ahead for a chef’s tasting, because that’s where it gets freaky. Freaky in a good way.
This goes back a little while. Victoria and I were driving home from our Travel West wine adventure when we decided to call Chef Kevin and ask if he could do a last-minute tasting. Kevin had two weddings to cater that night, but he still said, “OK.” He does that, I’m certain, because he lives for fine dining creativity. After our tasting that night, I developed a case of short-term amnesia brought on by a food experience one can only describe as “Oh…my…a-God.” Just now, I have discovered my notes on the evening’s fare and can relay to you what happened that night.
We got in and were seated, immediately requesting a music change. Normally, The Lake Room has on the classical music station which, to me, is a general misconception regarding what is pleasant to people who eat fine dining. Think of any ‘80s movie where the lower-class hero sneaks into the fancy country club and witnesses people eating caviar and wearing tuxedos and listening to some prissy, tinkly Mozart composition while discussing wealth, with noses pointed at the ceiling. Hopefully, that does not define the majority of us. I like classical music just fine, but not with dinner. That’s just me.
So we had our waiter (former Busy Bistro server) Derek switch the music to American Standards and Jazz. And since it was early enough that no one else was in The Lake Room, I didn’t feel too selfish.
Chef Kevin, also an actor who co-starred in the film “Hampshire: a ghost story” as Zed, came out to greet us. “Wassup, guys? I’m not gonna lie, but I’ve got some awesome things for you to taste.” “I’m not gonna lie…” is Kevin’s signature line and I don’t feel good about what I’m going to eat without hearing him say that.
THE TASTING:
Amuse bouche: Green onion blini with butter-poached lobster and coffee crème. We’re off to a great start.
First course: Seared Albacore Tuna Lyonnaise with poached quail egg, haricot verts, spinach, radish sprouts, and red onions.
Second course: Smoked-grilled pork loin with mushroom & sun dried tomato bread pudding, braised apples, bacon, granola, & fried leeks.
Third and Final course: Pan roasted beef tenderloin with sweet potato puree, candied fennel, charred corn, peppers, onion topped with brie butter.
Delicious, unique and successful. Some of the dishes had been swimming in Kevin’s culinary noodle for some time, others he came up with on the spot. Not having a preset tasting menu is a blessing since I love being surprised.
You can always add wine pairings with your tasting, but we opted not to as our familiarity with the list supplied us with what we were in the mood for.
I encourage everyone who hasn’t, yet, to call a couple days in advance, make a reservation for The Lake Room and ask for a three-to-five course chef’s tasting. Order some wine and make an adventure out of it.
KELLEY: A Night of Machete
Sep 7th
Scene from "Machete," now playing in movie theaters
In 2007, Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino released their throwback to bad 1970s back alley cinema with “Grindhouse” — a double feature that baffled many, tanked at the box office, but quickly became my favorite movie of the year.
Kelley
Scattered throughout the double feature were faux movie trailers in the spirit of grindhouse, exploitation cinema. The films, themselves, do not exist. Directors filmed only a sequence of money for a composition of pure absurdity.
Edgar Wright — director of “Hot Fuzz” and “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World” — gave us a trailer for “Don’t” in the style of Hammer House of Horror trailers from the ‘70s.
“Hostel” director Eli Roth offered an homage to holiday slasher flicks called “Thanksgiving.”
Rob Zombie directed the trailer for “Werewolf Women of the SS” with Nicolas Cage as Fu Manchu.
Most notable was the fake trailer for the Mexploitation action jaunt, “Machete”, directed by Robert Rodriguez, which kicked off the whole show. They are all dark, gruesome, and hilarious!
The trailers are linked below. Beware – these are for mature audiences.
DON’T — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6803Gu8tpuw
THANKSGIVING — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZE7tyW8CYXs&feature=related
WEREWOLF WOMEN — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vjMILfGPv6M&feature=related
MACHETE — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W8cCzltPD6Y
Ever since “Grindhouse” opened to near empty theaters, fans called for a real, feature-length version of “Machete.” Finally, their wish has been granted. As many of you have probable seen thanks to an aggressive TV advertising campaign, “Machete,” the full-length feature, opened this past Friday. To celebrate, we hit the town!
Take Two:
To celebrate, we hit Martinis at 515! And there’s a good reason why we made that our first and only stop: MACHETE.
Kris Kutcher and Todd Shackelford joined Megan, Justin, Victoria and myself for a round before we all split to attend other nightly events.
I ordered a red Zinfandel and a shot of Corzo tequila. My tequila must be room temp or slightly cooler, never chilled, never limed. Unless it’s awful well tequila. But then, if it’s awful well, it is never ordered by me.
Mixologist Chad Davis had his own take on tequila done right and, at first, I was unreceptive. But Victoria has faith and told Chad to mix it up. What he brought to the table a moment later was a no-named drink with eight ounces of chilled tequila, shaken to Mars with a splash of lime juice, and served in a martini glass. We named it. Ladies and gentleman, I give you the MACHETE.
Kris stared with mouth agape. “I can’t believe you’re going to drink that much tequila.”
Shared between a married couple who can hold their liquor, we did just fine. However, I would not have wanted to attempt another. Plus the hour was almost up. It was time to trade one Machete for another.
The movie “Machete” was gory, action-packed, and over-the-top with brilliantly bizarre and inspired casting choices like Lindsay Lohan as a drugged-out, spoiled twit and Steven Seagal as samurai sword-wielding drug kingpin (who, despite the loose clothing, couldn‘t hide his added chunk over the years). Shots from the original faux trailer have been mixed in, but many have been re-shot to accommodate casting & plot changes. There’s a bit of immigrant preachiness, but what else can you expect from an exploitation film?
Watching it, I wondered how many people in the theater actually got the joke. Judging by the laughter around me, most of them probably did.
I urge you to celebrate your own night of Machete. Drink a MACHETE before you see “Machete.” And then mark your calendars for Oct. 5 as “Grindhouse” is FINALLY being released in its original theatrical presentation on DVD and blu-ray.
GREENWELL: Kickball = Awesomeness
Sep 7th
I love feeling like a giant kid more than anything (except Chewbacca. I love Chewbacca more.)
Greenwell
It’s euphoric. These are the things I remember about being a kid: I never had to work, ever. I had the most unsafe, open coil heated oven toy for making rubber bugs out of goo. I never cooked anything, so I basically lived in a free restaurant. I could eat Lucky Charms for all three meals without my girlfriend looking at me funny. I owned a dog that I never had to clean up after. Ninja Turtles and X-Men. Dinosaur print tighty whiteys were fashionable. Bubalicious or Big League Chew bubble gum. The expression “Boo-yah!” And kickball. Lots and lots of kickball. But you don’t have to be a kid for that last one. You’ve heard the expression, “good things never die?” Well kickball is one of those things.
Some friends and I arranged a potluck barbecue and kickball game this past week at Johnson Park. With the weather being as nice as it has lately, I would suggest reserving a shelter through the Quincy Park District so you don’t have to compete for space or show up with grocery bags full of food and no place to sit. The cost to reserve the shelter was $25.
We grilled sweet corn, squash, hot dogs, turkey brats and a bunch of other stuff. Everyone brought beer or soda, and we gorged ourselves. Once we were all bloated and gaseous, we got out the bases and the ball. Okay, it wasn’t that gross, but my point is that kickball doesn’t necessarily demand peak physical condition.
The game is played like baseball, only with your feet and a bigger, softer ball. For the rules, check out this video on the basics of kickball. Normally, I’d take the time to explain all the rules, but I think it might actually be a requirement that every American child play kickball at least once in their life, so I’m going to go ahead and skip it. If you decide to watch the video, notice that it was made by WAKA, which stands for World Adult Kickball Association. I wasn’t lying before when I said kickball isn’t just for kids. If you check out their website, they have all kinds of info about rules, tournaments, and even jobs (That’s right, jobs!) for devoted fellow kickballers and kickball teams.
After our game was cut short by a softball practice, we all talked about organizing and playing games regularly, kind of like an independent, intramural league. The only problem is the size of each team. It could be difficult to get enough people to have enough teams for several games. The upside is that it’s extremely cheap, open to all ages, and TOTALLY AWESOME! I want to know what you think. Either comment here on the blog or email me at eric.greenwell.mail@gmail.com if you think you would be interested and/or could organize your own team. It’s a lot less about competition, and a lot more about spirit, enjoying yourself, drinking beer with your friends (which is aloud both on the sidelines and during the game if you wish), and busting the guts out of a rubber ball.
GREENWELL: Queens in drag take over The Phoenix
Sep 1st
I usually greet other members of the same sex casually, with a general “what’s up, dude?” or “Hey, man, how’s it going?” For encouragement, I might offer up a “nice job, bud,” or “well done, guy.” I guess it’s just a habit. Unfortunately, if you attended the drag show at The Phoenix last Saturday, you might get a tongue lashing and a smack for something like that. And, from what I witnessed, drag queens come up with some vicious and wickedly clever insults.
Greenwell
The Phoenix is a night club downtown at 625 Main that hosted a drag show from 9 to 11 p.m. Saturday night. “Queens” came from around the Midwest—Columbia, Mo., Hannibal, Mo., Springfield, Ill., and more. I think there were five or six performers in the show, but it was hard to tell. Each member would finish an act, go back to the dressing room, change, and come out later.
I was having a good time with friends drinking whiskey.
A performance consisted of a man preened with loads of makeup to create the illusion of a models cheek and jawbone structure, a really convincing wig, and they usually wore scant, form fitting get-ups like leotards with feather boas, daisy dukes or cocktail dresses. Occasionally, you might see a really nice evening gown or dress.
The host, who was also a drag queen, would announce the performer (Ginger Nicole is the only one I remember clearly) who would lip-sync to an upbeat pop song, or slow, ballroom number and dance around the audience. If you liked what you saw, or if what you saw came over to your table and ravaged you, you gave a dollar. Between performances, the host also razzed the audience terribly, sparing no one.
Honestly, I like drag shows because they remind me of a twisted, extreme carnival, the celebration before Lent, or a Greek play about Dionysus. Everything is upside down, crazy, inebriated and backwards. It gives all people — male, female, gay or straight — a chance to laugh at the traditionally rigid and conservative views of gender roles. I also found out that when a queen is in drag, it’s inappropriate to call “her” a him because drag shows have their own ethics.
Throw alcohol on top of that, and it’s sweet chaos.
Warning: The drag shows I have been to can get lewd, raunchy and offensive. The one at The Phoenix was no exception, which didn’t matter because you had to be 21 to get in anyway. Regardless, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.
KELLEY: The blog hijack — a weird night of entertainment and education
Aug 31st
Christopher Kelley
Christopher Kelley’s note: I booted the PC while shaking off jeers from the MacHeads who were trying to convert me through peer-pressure. A cup of Mexican Roast Organic steamed from my over-sized QU coffee mug. I sparked flint to my candy cigarette — reminding my brain that it was time to transform into THE WRITER, despite the fact that I quit nicotine shortly after the millennium. Ritual is sometimes unavoidable. My fingertips drifted over the keys, ready to pound out the prose. It was to be a glowing review of Chef Kevin from Tony’s Too. That was when the back of my head was introduced to something that felt like a kitchen spoon being swung by the Mighty Casey. Darkness snatched me like a frog’s tongue and I awoke several hours later to find the following typed up on my Word Processor:
Hi, my name is Victoria. Some of you may know me as Mrs. Chris Kelley and today, I have hijacked his blog “Searchlights.” I actually don’t enjoy writing so much as I prefer the spoken word. But, why not give it a shot.
THE WRITER: “A shot.” Foul play afoot? My heart was racing. Was this some kind of twisted confession?
VICTORIA: We eat out a lot. We enjoy cooking and experimenting with food at home but, for us, it’s all about “the experience” of dining. And, for all our love of food and dining out, we’ve still been able to lose weight steadily over the last two years. People have been asking how we did it. Part of the answer lies here:
THE WRITER: “You are what you eat.” The words slid past my lips without hopping to the next line of text. I poured myself a drink of Bakon Vodva – smokey, subtle bacon flavors — and read on.
VICTORIA: Chris and I for the past year have been getting more and more into organics whenever possible — free range chicken, grass fed meats and veggies from our local farmer’s markets (I ask the local farmer’s market folks if they use pesticides and some do and some don’t. I choose the ones who don‘t). We love the organics section at Hy-Vee, on Broadway especially. In short, we’ve become aware and truly do care about what we put into our bodies to be healthy without sacrificing taste and indulgence. Whenever possible, we go organic.
Recently, Chris and I were able to experience the movie “Fresh.” Our brother-in-law and fellow foodie, Justin, purchased a license to screen the film, as it is not in theaters or available in video stores, yet.
THE WRITER: I remembered the night Victoria mentioned it. It was one of those in-between nights. We didn’t feel like being out, didn’t feel like staying in. We paid a visit to the homestead of the Hales, Megan and Justin, who had just acquired their copy of the film for the screening. There was a delicious meal consisting of farmer’s market vegetables, organic pasta and free range chicken waiting for us on the dining room table. There were bottles of Zinfandel and Riesling and Port calling our name from the wine rack. A quiet evening with friends and a movie. Before I knew it, there were five empty bottles on the living room coffee table. Yeah, one of THOSE quiet evenings with friends and a movie.
VICTORIA: “Fresh” is a documentary about food, but that’s too simplistic. Like the Oscar-nominated documentary “Food, Inc.,” it is an eye-opener and a perfect introduction to what’s being called “The Food Movement.“ It offers a warning about where we’re headed and offers hope for where we could be. It is about changing the way we eat and treating the land, the farmers, and the animals with respect. OK, this is where my dislike of writing takes hold, and I say “Chris, you do this.” Truly, I’m better at the podium.
But Chris is still sawing logs, so I guess I should continue. So anyway, “Fresh” is wonderful. “Fresh” takes us to farmers who are sustainable and who are organic and, YES it can be done and, YES it can feed the world! You see how they live and how they are working to educate others about organics.
Now yes, I know, I know, organics can be expensive. But as the movie points out, there’s no such thing as cheap food. You’ll end up paying for it somewhere down the line, probably in the form of medical bills. The farmer’s market is very affordable. Hy-Vee has a 10% discount on Wednesday in their health market. And let’s not forget about Thyme Square in Downtown Quincy. I love Thyme Square Café. The food is wonderful — fresh, seasonal and they use grass fed meat.
Small steps create change. “Fresh” educates us on how we can be sustainable and organic. You feel it is possible once the knowledge is obtained and shared with others. And yes, that night we had an organic meal while watching the movie. We all vote for what we want at the grocery store. Every purchase is a vote. Chris and I are not 100% organic. We compromise here and there to continue enjoying all the things we like to eat and drink. But, I feel, being organic whenever possible has helped tremendously.
THE WRITER: Patches of cold sweat soaked through my shirt as I reached the end of my attacker’s typed confession regarding this health-conscious, food-conscious motion picture.
Not long after the night of the wined-out screening of this “Fresh” movie, there was another, incident. A captive audience at a secret culinary gathering in the city of Quincy (the details of which, I’ve sworn to keep hidden in the shadows, for now) was made to watch the film in the hopes of spreading the message further. Of course, there were buckets of classy hooch on hand just in case “Fresh” was sticking on the way down.
I thought of smashing my PC, or, perhaps just holding down the delete key to erase the confession and save the world from the madness. But I couldn’t. The message is too important. And, as Buffy creator Joss Whedon once wrote: “You can’t stop the signal.”
Perhaps one night in the future, there will be a slight pause in commerce as a thousand households decide to stay in, uncork a bottle and delight in something FRESH.
Too heavy? Well, then, please observe this picture of a cat sitting up like a person:
