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The annual DC Blues Festival opens at Noon this Saturday with one of our favorites, the Big Boy Little Band. The lineup also includes Doug MacLeod, Cheryl Renee with Them Bones Blues Band, Diunna Greenleaf & The Blue Mercy Band, and Bryan Lee & The Blues Power Band. It’s all at the Carter Barron Amphitheatre and it’s all free.

There’s also a John Cephas Memorial Workshop Stage (hosted by tastemaker Dr. S.O. Feelgood) featuring hands-on fun for the whole family: an instrument petting zoo, vocal workshop, a harmonica workshop for kids, and an acoustic Blues round robin.

Don’t miss the highlight of Washington’s Labor Day Weekend, and be sure to thank the folks from the DC Blues Society when you get there.

DC Blues Festival
Saturday, September 2, 2010
12 Noon to 7:30 PM (gates open at 11:30 AM)
Carter Barron Amphitheatre
4850 Colorado Avenue, NW
Washington, DC 20011

(near the intersection 16th Street and Colorado Avenue)

Directions here (you can take the bus, too). Download an official flyer.

 

Image by Mike Licht. Download a copy here. Creative Commons license; credit Mike Licht, NotionsCapital.com

Comments are welcome if they are on-topic, substantive, concise, and not boring or obscene. Comments may be edited for clarity and length.

Last night was full of laughter, thanks to Nyjer Morgan of the Washington Nationals. I was hanging out with my boy E at Ben’s Next Door, watching the Nationals get their asses handed to them by the Florida Marlins. Before I get too far into the story, let me explain that E is one of [...]

“Wanna grab a drink after work tomorrow?” read the text message from Jessica.

“I’ll be in Pittsburgh for the day but should be be back in time. Can we say 7pm, but in pencil rather than indelible pixels?” I replied.

I returned to DC a little later than planned; Jessica worked later than she anticipated so we skipped drinks and went straight to dinner.

She walked into the restaurant in a navy blue pencil skirt with big brass buttons on the back, and a lacy, racy top that I know she didn’t wear at work. The peep-toe platforms probably weren’t standard 9-5 issue either. Her make-up was perfectly applied – striking a balance between effortless, displaying effort, and it’s Friday night.

I stood to greet her and for just a moment, had a flash of awkwardness – it’s not supposed to be a date, but we’ve already been pretty familiar – wondering about the appropriate level of physicality in our salutation.

Where I had doubt, Jessica possessed absolute certainty. She sauntered more than walked towards me, dropping her work bag from her left shoulder as she went. She leaned forward on her toes and placed her right hand against my cheek guiding my lips towards hers for a hello that was two beats too long to be friendly.

“I thought this wasn’t a date” I stated in a whisper just loud enough to be heard over the bar’s iPod playing a Latin version of Take 5.

“It’s not” she countered as we released our hug. “This is a ‘I’ve had an incredibly shitty week so I decided to wear something really pretty and have some escapist fun with a man I’m not supposed to like.’”

“You practice that on the way in?” I teased.

“Yeah, you wanna make something of it?” Jessica shot back with a mock tough-girl look.

Our night of escapism unfolded as expected. We didn’t talk about her suburban lifestyle & desire to have children. Nor did we discuss my night-owl nature and its incompatibility with her early rising.

A few days later I sent Jessica an email asking her to have drinks with me in a couple of days because I had a meeting with a restaurant in her neighborhood. Her reply came quickly and in the affirmative, but with some caveats.

I would love to have drinks with you, especially since you’ll be just around the corner. But just to be clear: I won’t have shaved my legs for two days, and I will most definitely be wearing granny-panties.

Fair enough, I laughed/mumbled to my computer.

The universe has a really strange sense of humor.

Reader Question: assuming you are the kind of person who places oneself in situations where one must actively avoid, *ahem*, entanglements, what steps do you take to avoid such things?

Filed under: Crush with a big C, crush with a little c, dating, it's complicated - not the movie, moths have candles - apparently I have hot lawyers, women

The blogger went to the Virginia DMV completely prepared. It didn’t do him a bit of good. The post: My First of Two Trips to the DMV. Quiet Declarations.

The five things you could learn from Poison Control. DC Urban Dad. Great points.

If anyone has any suggestions of good post-apocalyptic dystopian literature to read, Missives from the Birdcage would like your recommendations.

Greater Greater Washington presents a great idea: combine the Circulator and Metro maps to help out visitors.

Lunch at Makoto. The Foodie Next Door. Photos and comments.

Calm in the midst of Chaos or the Monarch Butterfly in Ward 7. Photo. Life in the Village.

Why did ABC ask Bristol Palin to appear on Dancing With The Stars?

Because Condoleezza Rice and Ann Coulter turned it down.

 

Image by Mike Licht. Download a copy here. Creative Commons license; credit Mike Licht, NotionsCapital.com

Comments are welcome if they are on-topic, substantive, concise, and not boring or obscene. Comments may be edited for clarity and length.

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Check it out, ya’ll: I’ve put up a Flacks jobs board to make it easier for me to alert you to the career opportunities total strangers, co-workers and friends send me to share with you. What? Well, you get it.

If you are a job seeker, click on the new link to the “Jobs” page up there in the top navigation. From there, you may view current and past listings, subscribe to future listings and sign up to receive alerts via email.

If you are an employer or recruiter, I welcome your job postings in search of public relations, communications and new/social media talent. Please upload your job description and contact information (your name and email remains private) and choose either A) the free, 15-day listing, or B) pay a small fee for a 30-day listing to be featured on the FlackRabbit home page and promoted via the relevant Flacks Meetup listserv. FlackRabbit readers tend to be a transient bunch; although the current listings reflect DC-area opportunities, job openings in all major US cities are encouraged!

Enjoy! And happy job- and talent-hunting! If you have any questions or need help, scroll down to the comment box and shoot me a note, or email me at Margie (at) Flackrabbit (dot) com.

I got the call way too early for my taste [ed. note – the way my insomnia manifests varies, but lately it has me finally finding sleep just after sunrise. So calls before 9am are highly unpleasant.] Her voice was way too perky for pre-caffeinated discussion. However, she quickly identified herself as a new client, so I rallied my attentions to have a good conversation. We coverec her planned date (last Saturday,) how she came to contact me (referral from this client,) the number of guests, style of food, and then I heard the two words that stir concern in the heart of any service industry professional:

Bachelorette Party

I have long considered the pre-marriage descent into bacchanalian excess to be to be in the same category as tequila shots, dates with ex’s, and Kevin Costner films*. That is to say: things that have the patina of a good idea but whose shine quickly fades leaving nothing but the dull hue of impending regrets.

Against better judgment, and all prior experience, I took the gig anyway. Mostly because it was a referral from a good client, but also because August is too slow of a month to turn down business. I did have a couple of conditions:

• I will not be making anything in the shape of a penis.
• I will not use any cheesy double-entendres in the names of any dish, cocktail, or wine.
• Should there be any strippers involved in the evening, they may not appear until after the dessert course had been cleared.

…and I still knew that it was a bad idea.

The second indication that I should have rejected this gig, was the host preference that I not hire an assistant for service and prep (six guests are not too much for me to handle solo, but the evening goes so much more smoothly with another set of hands.) I certainly should have expressed more concern when the wine order included double the booze that I would have stocked for my hard-drinking friends.

The host, the bride-to-be, and two bridesmaids were already there when I arrived four hours before the cocktail hour. The first hour of prep proceeded without a hitch… then they all came into the kitchen. I don’t mind questions while I cook but after the second bottle of champagne was popped, their queries took a decidedly more lurid tone. It was the laziness and insincerity of the flirtations that bothered me most. None of them were truly directed at me as much as they were intended for an objectified me – I was simple a placeholder representing any man in their proximity. The pack dynamic was fully displayed with each of these woman trying to one-up the others. It was unseemly.

By the time I served the Prosecco Poached Berries with Hazelnut Whipped Cream I had endured a handful of inappropriate touches, too many flaccid innuendos to count, and overheard a baker’s dozen of suggestions about ways to use “any sauce [I] had left over.”

[ed. note: I am not suggesting – even for the split second it takes to over-poach an egg – that my experience is in any way comparable to what too many women endure in the presence of undignified men.]

As I was cleaning, the host and the maid of honor came into the kitchen to thank me for my efforts, and to “apologize if the girls got a little too rowdy.” The host, followed that by placing a handful of bills in the back pocket of my jeans as a tip.

I was almost done packing my things when she came into the kitchen once more.

“Refugee, everything really was lovely, I’m never cooking for a dinner party again. Are you available the first Saturday of October for another dinner of about the same size?”

“No, I’m not” I replied with a full stop that I hoped would prevent further inquiry.

“Oh, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re booked that far in advance” the host said with a slight slur.

I should have left things there, but my lessor demons shouted down the better angles so I responded “I didn’t say I was booked, just that I’m not available.”

*exceptions made for The Untouchables & Bull Durham… and maybe Dances with Wolves too

Filed under: bad clients, Dinner Parties, dumb things I have done, minutes of my life I'll never get back, private chef clients, women

I have a couple of fun announcements to make. However, the process of getting to the point of making announcements has not been particularly fun. I’ve come to realize that I need an intern. An annoying, unattractive intern. One who will keep me focused. Cool, sexy interns need not apply, because that’s just another distraction, [...]

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Last night, I was laying down with my daughter reading her the latest chapter in a book that we are gradually making our way through.

She would look at the words on the page and then turn her head and watch my mouth as I read out loud.

As I always do during these moments, I try to imagine what is going on in her almost five-year-old brain, figuring that she is recording this moment in her memory as I am, so  that she can reflect on it when she's older and remember fondly some of the things we did together, or remember that it was during our nightly "book time" that she developed her lifelong love of reading.

She continued this for a while...she'd look at the book, then at me, then at the book, then back at me...

Then she silently lifted the two ends of the drawstring on the hoodie I was wearing, stuck one in each of my nostrils, and turned back and faced the book, ready for me to continue the story.

Copyright © BiotechBlog, partner of DrugPatentWatch, and a product of thinkBiotech Drug Patent Expirations in August 2010 *Drugs may be covered by multiple patents Tradename Applicant Generic Name Patent Number Patent Expiration MUSE Vivus alprostadil 5,242,391 Sep 7, 2010 ADVAIR DISKUS 100/50 Glaxosmithkline fluticasone propionate; salmeterol xinafoate RE40045 Sep 7, 2010 ADVAIR DISKUS 500/50 Glaxosmithkline [...]

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State of the Fourth Estate questions journalistic ethics in the age of Twitter and in the wake of some fake tweets from a Washington Post columnist.

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Always a Drunk, Never a Bride examines the paradoxical fallacy of “being the Cool girlfriend.”

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