mr phil's paris posts
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WEDNESDAY, APRIL 5, 2000/LONDON - Marti & I arrived at Waterloo Station late yesterday afternoon, following an uneventful, easy trip from Paris via the Eurostar “chunnel” train. It was freezing in London -- winter's last gasp. We changed francs to pounds, then cabbed to our hotel, the Forté Posthouse Bloomsbury.
Forté Posthouse Bloomsbury.
We hated our room. Marti had been promised a newly-renovated room in this, her third choice of hotels in Bloomsbury. (Her favorites had no vacancies.) The “renovation” of this “executive” room must have been done in the early 1970s. It’s just not worth £119 per night. On our way to dinner we stopped at The Montague, Marti’s favorite hotel in this neighborhood, where we booked accommodations for Friday through Monday. We’ll muddle through at the Posthouse Bloomsbury until then.
The Montague Hotel, Marti's favorite.
The rest of our evening had a decidedly American theme. Pressed for time, we Whopper fans grabbed a quick supper at that most regal of Yank restaurants, the Burger King at Tottenham Court Road & Oxford Street.
Then we went to The Borderline to see American singer-songwriter Tom Ovans. Originally from the Boston area, Ovans lived in Nashville for many years & is now based in Austin, Texas. He plays great harmonica & acoustic guitar & his gravelly singing voice sounds a lot like Bob Dylan on Time Out Of Mind. Tom’s songs are well-honed marvels; we totally enjoyed last night’s set:
High-Stake Gamblin’ Town
Let It Rain
Those Days Have Passed Us By
Rita, Memphis & The Blues>
James Dean Comin’ Over The Hill
Just To Be With You
Whatcha Doin’
Need I Say More
Monkeys Have Landed
Crazy
Killing Me
E: Angelou
Tom Ovans.
Marti & I spoke with Tom for a few minutes after the set. I told him that because his opening song contained a reference to “the Deadheads,” I could probably submit a little review of that night’s show to RELIX. Later I found the dude who books the talent at The Borderline & gave him CDs/presskits for Merl Saunders & Janice de Rosa, two artists who have asked me to help with getting European gigs.
“I’m usually funnier than this,” Tom had quipped between songs, “but tonight we’re under a time constraint." The show in fact ended promptly at 10:30 p.m. & the crew started decking out the club in S&M gear: all sorts of bondage frames & devices began appearing everywhere. Time for a whole different kind of party! It was funny to see the contrast of the folk show wholewheaties (like us) departing as the glam-kinksters were arriving.
“Let’s get the hell outta here,” I said to Marti, “before the bastards start handcuffing us to these crosses!”
We strolled back to the hotel, where I was looking forward to a good night’s sleep. As I channel-surfed on the TV shortly after midnight, however, I landed on a pregame show called Major League Baseball 2000. It was a Brit & an American doing a lead-up to the ESPN telecast of the Red Sox vs. the Mariners, opening day in Seattle! I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I brewed some in-the-room coffee, rolled a doob & settled in to watch Pedro Martinez, the best pitcher in baseball, annihilate the Mariners. Eleven strike-outs in his first five innings. Jamie Moyer, Seattle’s ace, was strong in his first five innings, but my beloved Bosox emerged victorious shortly before 4 a.m.
The Red Sox away opener, live from Seattle - right here on Channel 5 in Limeytown. It kinda restores your faith in humanity.
THURSDAY, APRIL 6, 2000/LONDON - It's a crisp, sunny morning. Marti has departed for her course about the Internet & later today I plan to out-of-print-book shopping on behalf of my Parisian pal Philipe Sicard. Tonight Marti & I are getting together with our friend Marie Devlin, another British Telecom person in town on business. We first met Marie in June 1991 on a BT-sponsored long weekend trip to Rome. For several years Marie (& her husband Kevin) lived in the 16th arrondissement; we've enjoyed great times with them in Paris, then subsequently at their Wimbledon & Glasgow homes. Later this month Marie, Kevin & their little boy Joseph will be coming for a visit to Paris.
Morning rush hour on the London Underground.
Yesterday morning Marti & I rode the tube together to Covent Garden, so that Marti could buy a pair of cufflinks at Tie Rack; she had absent-mindedly set her old ones aside while trying to squeeze everything into her suitcase Monday night. I had considered buying a weekly subway card, but we worked out that I don't use the tube frequently enough to justify it. Since we stay in Bloomsbury, I can walk to many of my favorite London haunts.
Most of my action takes place around Bloomsbury & Soho.
New cufflinks installed, Marti departed for a meeting with her colleagues on the Communications team & I attacked Borders with shopping list in hand. I found Easter & birthday cards, Time Out, CDs by Luscious Jackson, Tom Ovans (whom we had seen live Tuesday night) & by Yo-Yo Ma/Edgar Meyer/Mark O'Connor. This last is a new release entitled Appalachian Journey; the bluegrass/classical trio will be showcasing it in a lunchtime concert at the Barbican Centre next Tuesday. At that time Marti will be attending the last of her London meetings, but I phone-ordered a single ticket for myself from Paris last week. I'm looking forward to it.
Yo-Yo Ma, Mark O'Connor & Edgar Meyer.
After the Borders shopping I walked through Soho square to the Webshack, where I read & answered my e-mail, checked my newsgroups & posted to this page. I had a cheap but nutritious veggie lunch at Govinda, the Hare Krishna restaurant in Soho Street. Then I went for a long walk, winding up back at the hotel.
Here's where I check e-mail
& post to this page when I'm in London.
I didn't see it, but yesterday in London they held the funeral service for zany rock'n'roller Ian Dury, who died a few days ago following a long battle with cancer. He gave us the memorable "Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick" back in the late '70s. That song was always a dancefloor favorite with our Washington pals at parties. I was touched to see on TV that members of the band Madness served as pallbearers for Dury, attesting to his profound influence on their music. Goodnight, funnyman.
Ian Dury.
Marti returned & we hung out in the room together for a couple of hours before going to dinner at a Chinese restaurant called Poon's, just across Southampton Row. A quiet evening.
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Email: phildemetrion@yahoo.com
