It Appears to be a Long Time

Deniz Lunch Special

Looking back at all the take out, I think January was a little tough this year.  There was not a tragedy, death or health issue and we had one of the mildest winters I can remember.  There were exciting positive things happening too but yet, it was hard to get going and feel motivated.  January is certainly the Monday of months normally so maybe it's not good to read into it too much.  With the real struggles we're witnessing people all around endure, it's selfish to dwell on these nuanced feelings.  But who am I if not someone who notices these slight distinctions?  

The Time Has Come For Me to Break Out of this Shell

I hauled my husband inside the Deniz Turkish Restaurant across the street instead of getting take-out as usual and it was delightful! The male waiters were attentive, helpful and the furnishings were gorgeous.  It's not so hard to get dressed and sit in a real place.  In fact, the experience becomes richer and oftentimes the food is better.  The mental experiment they called the lockdown really did a long-lasting number on my social anxiety but I'm slowing pulling out of it.

I had the MENEMEN: Turkish style scrambled eggs, chopped onion, tomato and sliced green peppers. This was creamy and tangy both.  Love it!

P ordered the: GYRO & EGGS Any style two eggs and lamb gyro, served with spinach tarator and shepherd salad.

The lamb was succulent and I instantly wanted to change my order, although mine was delicious. 

Later at the homestead, made a fall-off-the-bone simple baked chicken, seasoned only with salt and black pepper. 

Yesterme, Yesteryou, Yesterday

Lunch from Deniz Restaurant

I was to get my haircut on this day at the hipster salon.  I go early so as not to be shamed by the youth.  Avoiding the glaring looks from young, plump-fleshed girls who have their whole lives in front of them.  My stylist is ten years under me but she is getting there, so she also faces the challenge of being in this place, this older than normal place.  You can't gauge it by your aunts or mothers.  Life at 62 was so different then.  I don't know how to go forward anymore than these 20 year olds sitting in these same chairs, cutting their abundant locks.  My hair is thinning and acts up all summer.  I remember thinking, when I was their age, that all women my age now looked on the verge of breakdowns.  Stressed, tired, and frantic. Worry lines dominated their facial expression, like mine does now.  Their smile had a tentativeness to it. Where did it go, that glow that I once knew?  My mother in law says she feels the same way inside as she did at 30 and I feel the same.  We get shocked sometimes when we look in the mirror, how our body and face do not match our mind and heart.   You can only hope the live experience can emanate the real soul lurking inside these aging vessels. 

I came in armed with my few internet pics that my stylist always glances at but she is more concerned with getting her hands in my head and decided which way to go feeling her way around. 

A Haircut and a shag, or in this case, just a shaggy haircut.

Two Tickets to Paradise

I had a sick puppy in the form of a 60 year old dude on my hands, and since just the suggestion of a virus gets me feeling queasy, I opted out of all my usual meal prep and did the unthinkable, ordered take out for both lunch and dinner.  You know, because it feels like the world just might end sooner than expected and hey, wouldn't it be horrible if I never had a local Smash Burger before we bit it?

The first indulgence was Smash Burger delivery with fries and tater tots.  Slightly less than our corner burgers but more fun choices and toppings.  This is only a couple of blocks away so we can walk to get them in the future, if there is one, when we're feeling better.

Deniz Chicken Kebab platters with tabbouleh and another with chicken soup.  This is enough to save for a small lunch the next day.  Even though the waiters are surly old fucks in this place, the food can be highly special and tasty.  But don't go ordering American food (and why would you?) because I learned the hard way, it is not their expertise. 

Thrill Me with All of Your Charms

Deniz lunch take out

A nice young man contacted me after looking for his uncle online. His search led him to my blog, as I worked with his uncle at Leopold Records back in the late 1980's.  I have written about this man, Albert Ramirez before because he was one of those handful of folks in my life that I remember often and fondly.  We all must have those people that touch us in ways that are hard to describe or even understand.  Subtle small exchanges that were not life changing events but yet, you never forget them.  Everyone teaches us something but some more than others, again even if you don't quite get what it is, it sticks with you.  Every so often coming to mind to see if you figured it out yet, that thing that you could not describe or make sense of.  

In the buying office at Leopold

Leopold was like my college experience in that I got schooled by so many good people.  I moved from Indiana to Fresno to Redwood City to San Francisco in my 20's, so I was slightly green.  My ignorance masked as bravery allowing me to dive headfirst into situations for which I was ill-prepared.  I began taking the BART train everyday to work from my Tenderloin apartment in San Francisco to Leopold Records in Berkeley. Unfortunately, this was just as they were bought out by Wherehouse Records.  The corporation didn't change the name and allowed Leopold to be it's winning self for a short time but I'm sure it was not the same for the old-timers and most moved on in the years to follow.  I was part of that change.  Again, sometimes it's good to be ignorant because it's only in hindsight that I realize my role. At the time, I was operating alone, just another reject of society looking for a place to land.  

The first time I walked through the vinyl side of this institution with the wide wood planked floors and dark cavernous rows of handwritten bin cards, standing in line, some broken, like weathered gravestones, I felt like I had made it.  A tall, well-built African-American manned the elevated front counter and controlled the mood in the dimly lit but airy upper level.  In the morning he played slow jazz and all things glorious, then in the afternoon the vibe would change to gain a bit of energy until at points it felt like everyone would surely break out into dance, and sometimes did.   I browsed the bins and found some cracked artist cards that needed remade, feeling a usefulness for the first time in a long while.     

I had hopped my way across all these sinking ships of music retail, just trying to stay afloat.  I was lost and searching.  When I hit Berkeley thru San Francisco, I realized I was coming at life from the wrong angle entirely.  At some point that first week, I tossed a small bag containing everything I believed to be true so far into one of the metal garbage bins along Telegraph Ave and continued to my new incredible job.  

Two weeks prior I found myself managing a small empty shell of a record store in the city, this one with no such air and wood, only musty grey carpet and a disgruntled and diminishing staff.  In a very short time realized I would suffocate and die in a place like that.  So, finding a new home to feed and flourish with people that had so much life to give was not only lucky, it saved me. 

I found myself with these slightly older characters that seemed to each hold different secrets to life.  Barbara, David McB, Roxanne, Karen, and Albert.  In my mind I ALWAYS see Ramirez with a giant smile on his face.  Every single question or negative thought I proposed he would always have a positive spin.  Laughing, he would guide me around and show me how all my silly notions were dead wrong.  Look at it like this, he'd say.  No, you don't see it!, he'd raise his voice almost laughing at me, never upset, instead delighted to show me all this darkness that I insisted was my life, was not real.  Like Glinda the good witch in talking of her evil sister in the Wizard of Oz.  And I could see in his face that he knew something big that I didn't and I wanted to know it too.  But I was so far from being ready.  I had come part of the way but had so much more suffering to do.  

Hungover, burnt out and sick with depression,  I'd complain about coming to work and he'd say, No, no, you 'get to' come to work.  Change your wording and correct your thoughts.  I would roll my eyes but I knew he was right.  I was thrilled to be working there.  I knew what an opportunity it was to learn everything I could about music from these human computers and absorb all the new differences that I craved. This place was rich in culture and if I could get out of my own way and pay attention, I might grab some happiness too. Even though I would continue to treat my body as a dishrag for some years, I heard him, loud and clear.

Albert would go into these pseudo lectures in the buying office during down times, about being young, how we need to learn to stay in the moment and take time to breath and meditate. He'd stand before us, mirroring all our bad behavior and show us how easy it is to change, by just doing it.  These same brilliant concepts that I struggle with today but fully believe are true.  He spoke of sex and how we were silly to obsess on it, that it robbed us of useful vitality.  In fact, he was practicing holding in his orgasms in order to preserve his energy, going into detail about how he'd bring himself just to the brink of an orgasm and then send it back down the shaft.  He spoke of this as a practice of sufism and we found it shocking and impressive that he had that level of constraint but also that a grown ass man would talk about sex so openly, like there was nothing shameful about it.  I had a lot of 'first times' in Berkeley even though at the time thought myself very worldly.  

Albert was muscular and thin, very well built.  He took care of his body and was always stretching and eating the right things to nourish it.  I can remember the shape of his arms and the color of his skin.  How his cheeks would wrinkle when he smiled. I didn't have a crush, more an older brother type of admiration.  He may have been the first straight male friend to approach me as a person, and not a sexual opportunity.  That was refreshing.  In turn, it was easy to grant him the same respect.   

He corrected my way of approaching coworkers and himself on things like attendance and breaks.  He showed me how wrong I was constantly but in a way that was kind and impactful.  And I was all kinds of wrong back then.  

I was a hard headed little shithead but I knew enough to shut up and listen from time to time.  Albert helped with my first official task, to buy Jazz cassette tapes which was a thankless job and something I was completely incapable of doing well.  He spent hours talking to me about labels and musicians, which albums sold and which were not worth carrying.  He was incredibly nice to me when he didn't have to be, nor was it probably that easy.  

Lorenzo Loera, if you find this, I think it's Kizmet.  When you wrote to me, asking for stories of your uncle, my search for you brought me to your incredible cover of Bloodstone's Natural High, a song I not only love but just featured on a comedy rap I recorded recently but more importantly, was a song frequently played at Leopold and brings back sweet memories.   From your post, I imagine Albert has passed on?   I tried to find him years ago, but no one knew anything.  This is proof that even though you don't think someone is listening, if you take time to pass along usable knowledge about life, it never falls on deaf ears.  Even if the person doesn't seem to listen at the moment, I feel these truths do become recognized eventually.  I'm super grateful to Albert for all the times he smiled and took a pause for this girl.  

A cleaned out pantry will, for a short time make one feel they have their shit together

It's Coming Around Again

Last night at work I had a chest pain that I thought was going to take me straight to the boneyard.  It lasted about 2 minutes and then it became a low grade ache that lasted a week.  I was at work and it was so bad that I felt I had better warn my coworker in case I dropped dead.  My coworker said, it's probably the virus, attacking your lymph nodes.  She studies about the body and has been my advisor since COVID.  She is interested in the Long Haul and understanding how it affects the body.  She usually yells at me, like its my fault when I get sick but then becomes intrigued with my symptoms. My ticker is good, I've had tons of tests.  Riding home out of breath and miserable, I figured she was right and later learned, she was indeed.  The COVID got me again.  It was a much milder version but because it comes with such a bizarre set of symptoms, I would never call it an easy ride.  When my body gets run down, its as if the virus comes alive again and wreaks havoc on my bladder, my heart, my muscles and nervous system.  Its always felt like the first virus never left my body.  It's certainly plausible that I could have contacted the various variants individually, but instead I believe the first version has never gone away.  

But life goes on and meals must be eaten.  I took advantage of the amazing lunch menu at Deniz, ordering the Chicken Kebab. On the other end of the phone, I hear yelling 'didn't you read the menu, the Chicken special is only available Monday through Thursday.  Friday must be lamb!  Don't you see it written??!!  Yeah, yeah, I say, no worries dude, I'll take the lamb.  Geez!  It was so delicious that I forgot all about the scolding.  Everyone is so intense in this town.

It's Hard to Believe but It's All Good

I woke up on this day off feeling sorry for myself. It happens, nobody's perfect. For hours I saw no way out of the doldrums.  It was as if all the fresh had been sucked out of the air.  Nothing could be done. Other than ordering a take out Turkish lunch special, that is, from Deniz Restaurant.  What is in that white rice to make it sooooooo dreamy? How soothing is their yogurt sauce poured over the smoky chunks of chicken, especially paired with the slightly sweet hot sauce condiment? Surely some added french fries could only help this blues situation ruminating in the noggin.  Slumping down into the loveseat with a big iced lemon seltzer, a dumb movie, and bed pillows, eventually, I was able to shut down my mind enough to just breathe.  For several moments I saw how wonderful it was to relax and enjoy the day alone in a clean apartment, with lit candles, no real problems, other than a weary soul.  

Thoughts come flooding in seconds later.  This time, trying to rationalize;  Some other girl in an apartment across town has everything, including a better job, loads of friends, amazing hair, cooler shoes and lots of money to travel.  But then there is a gal, down the road further feeling alone, perhaps without a job.  Her hair is the least of her concerns.  She's down and out, worried about money.  That girl is not able to call and get this special lunch delivered to her door.  There's so many girls in this city.  Another suffers from MS in Manhattan, and never complains about it.  There is another who takes care of her husband with Parkinson's while trying not to get killed by her son with schizophrenia.  We all know people less fortunate, with harder lives.  Suddenly I'm over wrought with guilt for conjuring unnecessary despair upon myself.   Why is the hardest thing to believe sometimes is that you're just fine?   

I Really Don't Know Life at All

More lunch COVID delivery from Denis Turkish Restaurant

The key to financially managing take out is to find a spot that has a vibrant business lunch crowd.  Their lunch menu specials tend to be lower to drive traffic, they offer larger portions and everything is fresh.  Deniz gives warm bread, and a side, which is enough for two portions. Unfortunately I babaganushed when I meant to tabule.  Like Joni Mitchell, eggplant is an acquired taste.  I trust they are both amazing but I can't yet find myself enjoying either with any amount of sincerity.

I Dig a Pony

Another successful trip to the Turkish feeding grounds across the street.  This time, it was even more satisfying and the process was as smooth as getting a pack of cigarettes.  We don't often get take-out, as cooking is now a form of entertainment, so when we do, it feels extra special and rewarding.  

Chicken Adana Kebab lunch combo from Deniz Restaurant

We sat with a weird, long ass flu, right before I was to get boosted.  Then wondered whether it was still necessary.  If this was Omicron we might actually have better immunity and could wait past spring to get it, when the options may change again.  For those of us that are heavily saturated in the public, and who will most likely become sick more often, it's good to consider how to pace some of these shots going into our bodies.  There was confusing information about the boosters for folks like me who have been vaccinated but also had the virus twice and long haul. These ongoing symptoms are freaking me out and I try to ignore them but some are impossible.  I don't want my body to be stressed out any more than necessary because any little bug seems to throw it into a Frankenstein tizzy.  There is still so much we don't know about the virus and the vaccines, what this long haul is and how they all affect each other.  

So, I for one want all pertinent information to be available to me.  Not whacked out right wing conspiracy nut jobs, no.  But yes, from doctors and scientists that feel passionate enough to speak about concerns or corruption that could be influencing bad decisions, and who are not driven by monetary gain or big pharma.  All I want to do is listen.

I do not own this video - just sharing 

I have been listening to Joe Rogan for years and love what he created, the hours long Podcast to discuss complicated subjects, not always serious, but sometimes.  He's introduced me to many cool scientists that have a new way of explaining big concepts that I enjoy like AI, and he also hosted many of my favorite Ufologists.  I love all the comedians, since comedy is gold during the pandemic.  Rogan himself, is a guy's guy,  not a lot there for a gal like me to relate to, but nonetheless, what I find interesting, is what he finds interesting.  The general premise of sitting and talking unscripted with a good conversationalist feels like the modern version of my Midwestern winter, paneled basement discussions, way back, talking for hours, getting stoned, maybe bringing out the whiskey late. I loved doing that. It feels new and familiar both.  A respectable format to discover truths and bounce off ideas.  When Rogan moved to Spotify and became so popular, I'm sure he knew his freedoms would be squashed sooner than later.  Even though it was predictable,  I wish we could find healthier ways to address our differences. 

One of the guys I was introduced to on Joe's podcast is Sam Harris.  I disagree with him on some issues but always love hearing why he believes what he does.  I also like to hear him paired against others that challenge his opinion to remember what civilized discussion sounds like.  Don't you miss that?  Harris makes some important points and without hatred or trying to take anyone down here in this video about the current Joe Rogan/ Spotify fiasco.  

Deniz Doo-Be-Doo, I'm in Love with You

Did you ever have a neighborhood restaurant that for whatever reason, you just couldn't bring yourself to try, even while desperate for new cuisine?  Deniz Restaurant and Bar was that place for me.  Located right across the street on the corner.  For a decade plus, it just wasn't the chosen option for no particular reason.  Then came the pandemic and loss of so many local spots, so, on this day I took the chance and ordered their lunch option.  We were both home sick with what we were sure was Omicron, flu like symptoms, sudden mysterious rashes, another leg spasm episode, etc.  And here comes gorgeous, in the form of Turkish and Mediterranean food. A little CoV2 variant isn't enough to keep this girl's appetite down. 

I got the Kofte Kebab - Char-grilled ground lamb seasoned with onion, parsley and herb over rice and salad. With that also came warm bread and tabule, and sauces.  I love a place that gives good condiment!

I ordered P the Chicken Kebab with the creamiest chicken soup!

After two negative tests later, we had to assume it was the flu.