I've done lots of thinking about how to explain this weekend. I had thoughts of linking Willy Wonka, Seven, and Dark Water to clarify/confuse what went on over these few days.
Saturday morning at 6:55 a.m., I called my friend to wake her, to make sure she could pack and be on our agreed corner by 8:00 a.m.
A car picks us up and we begin our journey to Atlantic City (usually, the most depressing place in the world). In the car, we meet: well, several media contacts, but more importantly, new friends. We all hit it off from the start.
We arrive and are put up in a swank new hotel ... roll around on the bed and thank the gods for our good fortunes.
Time to go meet all the chefs in our dine-around. I don't know the term for it, but it's something about taking a tour of all the fancy restaurants, while they try to woo you. We met a chef who "blows" sugar and used to work for W. Bush ... hence the Willy Wonka reference; we met a handsome, handsome egotistical chef who served us kobe beef and lobster and shrimp and sake; we met a less-handsome, but perhaps more reknown (?) man whose restaurant is in a basement but is beautiful. There, we ate spaghetti, all types of Italian foods, drank white wine and were seated at a communal table that allowed for some good bonding.
Because I'm not good at holding my alcohol, I knew myself and went to take a nap before the evening's events happened. When I did, I was told we had a credit posted to the room ... so, I ordered more food and a movie. You bet the latter was true.
When we got home to New York, three of us from the trip leapt up to Roosevelt Island ("leapt" is ill-used ... it took a bus ride, a tram ride, and a long walk -- and I'm a gimp) and that's where I was reminded of Dark Water -- with Jennifer Connelly, which was shot on RI.
What this all means is, I embodied a few of these characters this weekend. Let's have a little retrospective look at Seven:
Saturday morning at 6:55 a.m., I called my friend to wake her, to make sure she could pack and be on our agreed corner by 8:00 a.m.
A car picks us up and we begin our journey to Atlantic City (usually, the most depressing place in the world). In the car, we meet: well, several media contacts, but more importantly, new friends. We all hit it off from the start.
We arrive and are put up in a swank new hotel ... roll around on the bed and thank the gods for our good fortunes.
Time to go meet all the chefs in our dine-around. I don't know the term for it, but it's something about taking a tour of all the fancy restaurants, while they try to woo you. We met a chef who "blows" sugar and used to work for W. Bush ... hence the Willy Wonka reference; we met a handsome, handsome egotistical chef who served us kobe beef and lobster and shrimp and sake; we met a less-handsome, but perhaps more reknown (?) man whose restaurant is in a basement but is beautiful. There, we ate spaghetti, all types of Italian foods, drank white wine and were seated at a communal table that allowed for some good bonding.
Because I'm not good at holding my alcohol, I knew myself and went to take a nap before the evening's events happened. When I did, I was told we had a credit posted to the room ... so, I ordered more food and a movie. You bet the latter was true.
When we got home to New York, three of us from the trip leapt up to Roosevelt Island ("leapt" is ill-used ... it took a bus ride, a tram ride, and a long walk -- and I'm a gimp) and that's where I was reminded of Dark Water -- with Jennifer Connelly, which was shot on RI.
What this all means is, I embodied a few of these characters this weekend. Let's have a little retrospective look at Seven:
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1 comment:
W?
I know somebody who lives on Roosevelt Island. A Madhesi.
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