Ioannis Alexandres Veliotes, better known as Johnny Otis, died a couple of days back at the age of 90. Otis was born in Vallejo, CA, to parents of Greek extraction,and is known throughout music circles as the "Godfather of R&B".
Otis was the older brother of Nicholas A. Veliotes, former U.S. Ambassador to Jordan (1978–1981) and to Egypt (1984–1986), father of musician Shuggie Otis and grandfather to musician Lucky Otis.
Probably best known for his first hit "Harlem Nocturne" in the mid-1940s, Otis cemented his reputation as a hit-maker with 1958's "Willie and the Hand Jive" which not only hit #1 on the U.S. R&B charts, but started a national dance craze. (anybody out there remember how to do it?)
Otis was also an astounding judge of talent, promoting the careers of such names as Etta James, Little Esther Phillips and some singers calling themselves "The Robins," who later rose to fame as The Coasters. Jackie Wilson, Hank Ballard and others were some others whose careers greatly profited from Otis' eponymous Los Angeles radio show. As a record producer, he shepherded Big Momma Thornton through the original release of Lieber and Stoller's "Hound Dog," which Elvis Presley (and a few others) also covered.
"As a kid I decided that if our society dictated that one had to be black or white, I would be black," Otis once wrote, and if you ever heard any of his broadcasts (his most recent being a saturday morning show on KPFA-FM broadcast over breakfast at Sebastopol, CA's Powerhouse Brewery, which was near his farm) you would be hard pressed to think otherwise. Johnny's recounting the adventures of some of his band's road trips through the South were something not to be missed - full of raucous anecdotes, revelations and rockin' music. We really miss this, as it was a saturday morning staple in our house, leading into the "Blues By The Bay" Show. What a great way to start a weekend!
Frank Zappa once claimed that Otis was the inspiration for his own distinctive facial hair.

* see, folks, this sort of tragedy is what can happen when funds for public schools are so severely cut....

** that's their story, and we'll go along with it; this is, after all, a family blog.....

*** of course, they can't be all that delicate if they can make a trip like that witout so much as a bag of peanuts beng offered; personally, I need those peanuts to survive the trip....

You might have seen him, standing at some roadside spot (or near downtown San Francisco's Powell Street cable car turntable), waving to people and offering a heartfelt "Praise The Lord!" wearing his sandwich board signs. "Jesus Saves" and "God Is Love" were the signs' usual messages.
Born in Granby, MO in 1916, Judson Junior Cope (yes, 'Junior' was his middle name) was 95 when he passed away last week in San Pablo, CA. He leaves behind his wife, who is Tiny (seriously, 'Tiny' is her first name), son David and daughter Joanie.
Jud was my father's mother's younger brother. This led to his being saddled with the moniker 'Brother' by his sister Capitola and older brother Herschel.* Naturally, while growing up, I heard him referred to most often as 'Uncle Brother.' **
Uncle Brother felt that his mission in life was to help people find The Lord. I'm pretty sure that he did that with at least a few people. When Halloween would roll around, he handed out religious pamplets from Jack T. Chick publications. While he might have felt that the holiday was a dark, pagan 'Devil's Night', and that he could use it to help get The Word out, I have always felt that he was more true to the spirit of the holiday than he ever suspected.
He also was known to fix up old bicycles to give to some of the kids in the neighborhood. As far as I know, he never owned a television set or ate pork.
As profoundly religious as he was, one family member, upon learning of his death remarked "I'll bet he's surprised along about now."
Surprised or not, he will be missed by many of us.

* Herschel lived to a fairly ripe old age, too. His sister (my grandmother Capitola ('Cap')) claimed that the only reason was that he was "too mean to die." When Hersch finally did pass away, she claimed the cause of death was 'meanness'.......

** On another side of the family, a cousin was universally referred to as simply 'Cousin,' until the day that he was ordained into the priesthood. From that day forth, he was known as "Cousin Father."

If you're an artist or creative sort of any kind, I (the Deborah) will be that you make a resolution every year to make more time for the things you like to make - whether it's jewelry, photography, painting, knitting or any other activity that feeds your soul.
I know I do.
Every year I hope to spend more time in the studio, and at the end of every year, it seems that there hasn't been enough time spent there. So my resolution for this year to is to really appreciate the time I do get, and to plan what I'm going to do when I get those chunks of time. Even if that planning would be described as "sitting and staring out the window." Sometimes the best ideas come that way.
And sometimes the best idea is to go back to something tried and true, like this recipe. Except that when I've tried this before, something has been missing. But I think I've got it now.
What's the recipe? Why, it's ...

POTATOES AU GRATIN
Serves 4-6

Slice thinly 4 large (or 6 smallish) peeled Idaho potatoes. Butter a shallow baking dish -- like your basic 9x11 Pyrex kind. I like shallow because it gives more surface area for the browned and crispy topping.

Layer the potatoes in the baking dish, and this is important: Season each layer. If you're watching your salt intake, measure out the total you will use so that you can put a bit on each layer (or use one of the salt substitutes, like Mrs. Dash). Dot with each layer with butter.

Season the topmost layer and dot with butter. Carefully pour in milk, or half-and-half, or broth (chicken or vegetable) to come barely halfway up the potatoes - this is one of the secrets I found I needed to learn. Too much liquid and you have soupy potatoes. Urgh.

Spread the top layer evenly with grated sharp Cheddar cheese, then sprinkle generously with bread crumbs - panko bread crumbs, found in most groceries, are a good size and crispy, so I like those.

Bake in a preheated 350-degree oven for 30-40 minutes, until the potatoes are tender, the liquid has been mostly absorbed and the cheese topping is browned and bubbly (or, as we say around our house, when it looks like something you'd like to eat).

And, uh, no, Uncle Floyd, they're not "hog rotten potatoes."

Happy New Year!

Today marks the 93rd anniversary of the birth of Henry Roeland "Professor Longhair" Byrd, born in Bogalusa, LA .

We love him for a lot of his hits, but particularly In The Night (it's where we work our magic)....

Throughout the various years, December 14th has brought us:

Jimmy Doolittle (Alameda, Ca) 1896 - USAF General (and a bit more)

Morey Amsterdam (Chicago, IL) 1908 - Comedian, vaudvillean and writer "Buddy Sorrel" on the Dick Van Dyke show

Spike Jones (Long Beach, CA) 1911 (Wow, a centennial!) - Unforgettable bandleader, probably most famous for his WWII record "Der Fuhrer's Face"

June Taylor (Chicago, IL) 1917 - Dancer & choreographer, most widely known for her troupe's appearance on Jackie Gleason's various television efforts

Patty Duke (Astin) (Queens, NY) 1946 - actress (with her own show, even)

Ginger Lynn Allen (Rockford, IL) 1962 - a different sort of actress

Alan Sues, who folks of a certain age just might remember as one of the zanier stars of Laugh In, died yesterday. He was 85. He brought the world the word "Featurette (dingalingaling)" among other things.
Worth mentioning is that, througout his career, he often played waaaay over-the-top gay men, always for comic effect. (He once portrayed, in full drag, a parody of fellow Laugh In cast member Joanne Worley - which had to be tough, as Worley herself was almost a parody.) One thing that Sues refused to do, however, was to come out of Hollywood's infamous celluloid closet, fearing that it would damage his career if people thought he was gay.
So, here you have a case of a closeted gay man acting like a raging, over-the-top queen, so that no one would know that he was gay.
Well, I guess it worked, huh.....?
Anyway, thank you, and farewell to Uncle Al The Kiddie's Pal.

...while most of the rest of the country was battling chillblains. We were visiting the most recent addition to the family - a grandson. A whopping 10 pounder when making his entry (ok, exit?), he seems to have everything necessary, and has now provided a heretofore unknown level of relief to his doting mother. (And a heretofore inconcevable output of fouled diapers to his loving father.) This kid will be going places (and will likely leave an easy to follow trail of devastation - like father, like son.....)

We took advantage of the oh-so-clement weather to spend a pleasant sunday afternoon in Balboa Park, and it's a good thing that Joey Boy came along; it appeared that nobody could get into the park that day without at least a stroller and thrity pounds of newborn-sized Pampers. Balboa Park, originally built for the 1915 Panama - California Exposition has some better-than-merely-wonderful things about it: fascinating architecture, incredbile landscaping, a terrific plant conservatory, many museums, a world-class zoo (my favorite is still the walk-through aviaries) and one of the world's largest outdoor pipe organs, which can be heard almost anywhere in the park during a recital *. Oh, yeah: and a first class model railroad museum **. A wonderful lunch at the Hospitality House (now containing the restaurant Prado) was not only a culinary delight, but a wonderful chance for all in attendance to ooh and ahh over each other's young'uns, and take turns seeing whose was the youngest. (Joey won, wee little hands down.)

Spanish Village, an artists' colony of sorts, is well worth a stroll through, even if it's not gifting season. (and just behind it runs the zoo's train, which always, always, leaves me misty-eyed. I can't wait to take the Joey Bug for a ride on it.)

The main promenade connecting the park's many park-like features (no, wait - they are actual park features, as park features should be!) is strewn with outdoor performers, animal rescue organizations and their charges and all sorts of things that you might find on a balmy sunday afternoon.
One of these characters is Steve Sloan, aka "The Sleeveless Magician."(pictured above). Having had, since my youth, a long-standing interest in magic (both stage and close-in) I watched Sleeveless with hawk-like attention.
He. Is. Good.
Of the three quick tricks that he did in the seven minutes that we watched, I recognized all three of them (and was practiced with at least two of them since I was 14, and, so, knew exactly what to watch for.)
Steve took the crowd on a tour-de-force of humor, misdirection and smoothness, with me at the head of the pack of rubes. Those three tricks that I knew so well weren't actually the tricks that they started out as!
Boy, was I skillfully snookered then and there...... Way to go, Sleeveless!

Traveler's Hint: if you are traveling Interstate 5 (known to folk south of about Oakland as 'The I5") and intend to stop for a good meal at Harris Ranch, try to do it when the temperature is quite low. Your nose will thank you. (remember, all that good beef comes from a feed lot somewhere............)

* which has, for years, allowed the City an excuse to hire an actual "Civic Organist". Thank you, Adolph Spreckles, for donating this fine instrument!

** don't miss their fantastic hand-built HO scale Goat Canyon wooden trestle!

Through the courtesy, generosity and kindness of friends *, last night we found ourselves in a 100-year old Belgian 'Spiegeltent' on the San Francisco waterfront, submerged in a mad scene of music, hilarity and outstanding food at the Teatro Zinzanni.
Now in its tenth year (and umpteenth iteration), this dinner theater extravaganza is a completely overwhelming experience. Heck, we're still quite whelmed!

Just being in the superbly appointed tent was worth the trip - colorful drapery, stained glass and brass poles give one the impression that you have stepped inside a vast carousel, and the hundreds of beveled mirrors mean that you don't miss a thing from the show. Of course, you couldn't miss the show, as a great deal of it comes right to your table. (In fact, some of the show actually happened under our table!) Not a bad seat in the house.
The entire waitstaff consists of talented performers, and manage to engage every diner in the show itself. No one escapes.
(If I have any gripe about the experience, it would have to be that both the entertainment and the food are so good that one can't devote the proper attention to either one. Each of the five courses are served via a fanfare, parade and dazzling acts, each of which could easily stand on its own merits.)

The main show, however, happens largely in the center, involving several rising stages and dangling aerialist contraptions. Singing, tap dancing and brilliant hula hoop work (yes!) are woven into the fabric of the show, along with theremin, operatic oration and ballsy blues singing.

The current show, "On The Air," includes Geoff Hoyle as Red Bottoms, host of the radio show "The Red Bottoms Hour," who makes for a wonderful blend of Henny Youngman, Red Buttons and Regis Philbin. Other performers supply endless wonder displaying their talents doing exquisite balancing acts, juggling, aerial acrobatic ballets (some of them quite comic) and, for the first time (as far as I'm concerned) a 6'3" yodeling dominatrix. Ok, there's more yet, but you'll have to find out for yourself. I'm going to apply a cold compress and sit calmly for a while.....

Described by one critic as the "Kit Kat Club" on acid, it is decidedly an all-encompassing experience.

After leaving the tent, strolling homeward down the Embarcadero and watching the moon rise of the Bay Bridge, we encountered a fellow diner who had been crowned "The Herring King" as part of the show. He was still aglow with the honor. The Show Goes On........

Gravity Report - Update

Today's gravity levels are expected to remain in the normal range (seasonally adjusted), with scattered levity expected by later tonite. Sporadic outbursts of hilarity are possible near the coast, clearing by morning.

In Other News

the annual Bay Area Bead Extravaganza * (aka "BABE") is coming up this weekend at the Oakland (CA) Marriot. We will be there - oh, you can bet on that - with a larger-than-usual selection of glass eyes, and a special new crop of vessels, both plain (for your customization) and extravagantly (what else?) copper electroplated. Find us at Table 1004 (near the Demo area.) We hope to see you there!

and you can click here for a discount coupon !

...over the weekend. It's in the northern California city of Ukiah* , in the heart of some beautiful wine country and on the way into the redwood country. The Hudson Museum currently has a show titled "Bear In Mind: The Story of the California Grizzly," about these fearsome bears, the symbolism of grizzlies in the history of California and some interesting grizzly artifacts. The museum's permanent exhibits, about the Hudson family itself, Grace's amazing paintings of local Pomo natives and Pomo artifacts (particularly the unsurpassed basketry) make it all the more absorbing.
I felt it might be worth a look, as I have become a bit more grizzled over the years myself (and occasionally bare, too.) The bear part of it was decidedly fascinating and educational, and the handicrafts stunning, but one of the more interesting aspects was the adjacent Sun House, which was the family dwelling of Grace and her husband, Dr. John Hudson. Built in the very early 20th century, the house is a wonderful example of an Arts and Crafts bungalow writ large, and this is a style that we here at Nightside have admired for many years.**

Serendipity also reared its welcome head when we were seated at a table at Schat's Bakery's courthouse location, just a few blocks away, enjoying lunch and marveling at their yeasty craft. Our table was located in front of a now-unused brick fireplace, which sported a framed newspaper article from the Santa Rosa Press-Democrat. Said article was about that very fireplace, and its historic significance: it seems that Laura Scudder *** herself used that very fireplace to create her prototype potato chips. Schat's location across the street from the courthouse seemed particularly appropriate, as Scudder was the first female attorney to practice in Ukiah. (Of course, she became even more famous as the first person to package potato chips in wax paper bags, instead of the barrels or tins typically used.) Ya just never know when history is going to jump up off of your plate and into your face!

As we passed through town again on monday, we were gobsmacked by the downtown Halloween mob of trick-or-treaters swarming about. Every conceivable costume was in evidence, altho the local police claimed that theirs were actually "uniforms." (I guess that enables them to wear them all year without suspicion.) In all, it was a grand and surreal time. We just hope that every monday in Ukiah is like that.

* yeah, I know, I wanted to pronounce it "YOU-kee-uh", too, but the locals claim it's pronounced "you-KI-uh"

** Pasadena's Gamble House is also a mind-boggling example of this style

*** I had always thought that Laura Scudder was as fictional as Betty Crocker, Aunt Jemima or that guy on the Cream of Wheat box (who really does have a name: "Rastus")

During a trip to San Diego a few weeks back, we met, er, encountered, or were encountered by, an interesting fellow at Horton Plaza mall who calls himself "The Devastating Love Poet." A freelance fountain of verse, he was most personable and charming, improvising (it seemed) some words of encouragement on the spot for our entire party, who most certainly could've used it right then and there. Definitely good for all of the change that I had on me, which not only pleased him, but enabled me to walk without a starboard list, sans all that ballast. Best wishes, good fellow, well met!

Just had a wonderful time at this past weekend's Park Day School Mini Maker Faire. Yep, that's me, obviously enjoying another round of constructive pyromania. The weather was cooperative, the atmosphere downright copacetic. And the kids! I have yet to work an event that had so many young kids in attendance, and they were great! Bundles of curiosity zipping about on little legs, asking all the right questions and actually listening to the answers! Let's do that again!

While we do maintain a shop on Etsy, someone tipped me off to a pretty funny flip side of it: "Regretsy," which features some of the odd and dark sides of this otherwise interesting site. The publisher's snarky remarks really tie it together.

Here around the grotteaux, we subscribe to the notion that, according to several sources, Columbus had learned the latest celestial navigation techniques during his stay in Portugal (no doubt whilst attempting to hustle the Portuguese crown into funding his now-famous Spanish-funded expedition.) Of course, he was a wee bit off in his stated goal, but, heck, here we are today!

"Christopher Columbus!" was also a favorite, socially-acceptable, expletive of The Deborah's uncle Doug, in the W.C. Fields "GODfrey DANiels!" vein.

In honor of all this (and the fact that we forgot to go grocery shopping), we present a traditional Portuguese recipe that we just had for dinner.

Ingredients

Frozen peas, at least a bag of 'em *
1 stick of linguica
4 eggs, preferably chicken

Make a layer of the peas in a skillet, preferably enough to cover the bottom. Cover and heat over low heat as they thaw. Don't forget about them.....
Whilst the above peas are thawing, toss the linguica into the microwave on High for about 2 minutes (if frozen). Slice into coins and fan them out on the microwave bacon-cooking thingie, cover with a paper towel and zap them on High for about another 2 - 3 minutes.
By now, the peas should juuuuust be thawing, (unless you did forget about them, in which case the rising smoke should remind you) and this is a great time to lay out a nice design on the peas with the linguica slices. ( I like to divvy up the space in the pan into quarters.)
Briskly crack the eggs onto the layer of peas, cover and return to the heat for just a couple of minutes. Try to resist the temptation to keep checking on them too often, as it lets out the steam that is really cooking the eggs.
When the eggs are set to your liking, serve 'em up with a spatula (ok, so it's really a 'pancake turner' - look, d'y'wanna argue or eat, huh?)
We would have a really nice photo of this satisfying dish, but we can't ever wait.
Granted, it's difficult to quickly arrange them artfully on a plate, but you're hungry, and it's late, and let's just eat, huh?

You can tart this up with all sorts of stuff like cilantro, chicken broth or halvah, for that matter, but we like it straight, unfiltered.

This goes really well with rustic, sourdough toast, red wine ('vinho tinto') and passionate kisses of gratitude.