Today was a sweltering day, although a storm blasted through here and somewhat moderated all the heat and humidity. I didn't do much today beyond grill some mild Italian sausages and doing some chores and trying to keep cool. After my bike follies yesterday, I wanted to just hang about. I did some reading.
I'm thinking I should frag this blog. Or at least mothball it. Giving serious thought to that. The only reason I'd not flat-out axe it is because when you do that to a blog, some cybermarketer scoops up the address and the next thing you know, they're trying to sell you toasters or links to memory foam lounge chairs or whatever, and that's annoying. Anyway, I haven't made my mind up, yet.
Got the boys bathed and fed, of course, so they're all fluffy and cute, loping around in their shorts jammies.
Tomorrow I'll have the boys clean up their room, and will fish out the air conditioner. The building requires having the super install it, which makes sense -- you don't want air conditioners falling from the sky.
My folks may visit in July, which'll be nice; they'll get to see the boys. Beyond that, pretty clear schedule. Work. Bike. Write. Work. Bike. Write. Fucking boring, right?
I'd really like to score tickets to Next, but they sell them in pairs, and I don't want to have to throw down that kind of money and then have to find somebody to go with me (and cadge the $100 from them the ticket would cost). I wish I could pick up a single seat, because I'm really only interested in visiting Next to try the food -- I am a fan of Achatz's cooking; I'm not out to impress a date -- and really, a circus like Next would be way, way too much of an over-the-top kind of experience for a date (and, honestly, I wouldn't want to be distracted -- Epicurean that I am, I honestly would want to be able to focus on the food. The presentation of it, all of that stuff, rather than dividing my attention between the food and a date). Anyway, that puts me off a bit vis-a-vis Next. I want a single ticket. I want to go, I want to see what they do. But, of course, from their vantage point, why sell one ticket when you can sell two? Four? Six? Eight? Part of the problem/conceit with the ticket arrangement of Next is that it forces one to make that kind of decision. See, I like reservations at a restaurant, and I like being able to just pop into a place; but having to buy a ticket seems like a thumb in the eye of the patron. Obviously, a set amount of people coming in and out at a given time and place lets the staff at Next plan a "perfect" dining experience -- no surprises, just a set-piece culinary performance. They know exactly how many people are coming, and can prepare for it, which lets them avoid sweating lots of details that operate in a typical restaurant. And, because of Achatz's reputation, he can count on the demand being high (and, since they completely change the menu/concept every three months, they can basically be "all new" every few months, ensuring steady demand). It irks me. I just want to try the food, and hate that there's basically a firewall between me and that place, or that I have to play games to be able to get through the door. It makes me want to spend my restaurant dollar elsewhere, despite having nothing but admiration for Achatz's work.
