“I love tickets!” squeals Cameron Diaz’s character in the first Charlie’s Angels movie. (And why has no one ever made a gif of that?) It’s supposed to illustrate what an eccentric character she is, but I understand completely. I love tickets. And spring is ticket season. Season-ticket season, to be precise. All of the arts organizations announce their upcoming seasons, tickets go on sale, and I spend hours each spring planning what I will be doing on Saturday nights all next winter. Case in point: Seattle Opera.
This statue stands guard over the bay at Doe Bay Resort on Orcas Island. It is irresistible to children, who are compelled to climb it. And it terrifies me, because I constantly imagine them tumbling off the statue and all the way down into the bay below. No one else seems worried, though, so maybe I just need to have more faith in the guardian.
Omakase, written with the character for trust, is the word you use when you order chef’s choice at a sushi restaurant. It shows that you trust the skill of the chef to know better than you what is in season and what will taste best together. When you say omakase, instead of giving an order, you are trusting the chef to create the best experience for you, like a DJ controlling the atmosphere of a party by selecting the right beats. You are likely to be served dishes outside of your comfort zone, and while you might not like all of them, a good chef will create a more delicious and memorable meal than you could have selected for yourself.
Each spring, Pacific Northwest Ballet’s Director’s Choice program is ballet omakase. The mixed rep program is Director Peter Boal’s opportunity to express his own taste and to stretch the audience and the dancers with dances that are more challenging or unusual than the regular season fare. Continue reading
It reminds me of this sign from Fists of Fury.
It’s not the same thing, of course. It’s actually stage direction for a local Aki Matsuri (Autumn Festival). Even fake discrimination is not really funny, but I got a kick out of the idea of martial artists as the socially unacceptable group that has to use the back door.
— Hugo House (@HugoHouse) March 11, 2016
Leaving the house always takes a bit of courage. It’s so much easier to stay home and read a book. But on this night I didn’t hesitate, because I had a ticket to Susan Orlean’s Writerly Autopsy at Hugo House. Continue reading
It’s been a busy couple of months on the Crooked Road. As it often does, change came suddenly, and I went from barely working half time to working a little more than full time in a matter of days. The gig that made the difference won’t result in much publicly viewable work, but it is oiling some mental hinges that were starting to get rusty, and it pays well – or it will, when I start getting paid. I’m going to do my best to keep up the production of regular work. Here is a summary of what I’ve been up to lately.
Doe Bay has a slogan that says their music festival is for kids and adults can come, too. I’ve been to many music festivals around the Northwest and abroad, and the tiny Doe Bay, in addition to being a great place to hear next year’s hottest new bands, is the most kid-friendly.
The festival is tiny in part to maintain that wholesome family feeling, and partly due to the limitations of island septic systems. Tickets are almost impossible to get unless you stay at Doe Bay Resort in the off-season and buy tickets while you’re there. The folks who put it together also throw the Timber and Timbrrr festivals, which share a lot of the same great music and laid back atmosphere, but without the ticket scarcity.
(I know you’re not supposed to post pictures of other people’s kids on the internet, but I love this picture from Doe Bay Fest several years ago. Whoever this kid is, they’re not a baby anymore, and there’s no way they could be identified from this picture so I hope it’s okay just this once.)