hungry hearted

serving up a healthy portion of pop culture commentary, random infatuations, and introspective ramblings

I went to the hot sauce festival for the Honey (Bears)


Approximately 10,000 sweaty Austinites took to Waterloo Park on Sunday for the 18th Annual Austin Chronicle Hot Sauce Festival. Given my new convenient proximity to downtown, I was happy to stumble on over to check out the scene. Personally, I found the tasting lines to be way out of hand, but to be honest I wasn't there for the hot sauce. I was there for the smooth, satisfying, rhythm & blues of Austin's own Black Joe Lewis & The Honey Bears.


"Doing the Funk"


The Honey Bears headlined the musical portion of the festival and KILLED IT. Their straight forward, heavy, blues-funk is so tight that the appeal is universal. I saw a frat boy try to buy a Natalie Merchant tour shirt off the back of a homeless man, straight up. That's just interesting. Surprisingly, the business transaction was denied! Why? Because the homeless dude was too busy gettin' DOWN. And although frat boy was noticeably disappointed, he was totally understanding as he boogied back to his little click.

Their modern-day Motown sound is reminiscent of the greats and suitably they list their influences as James Brown, The Bar-Kays, Sam & Dave, and Bo Diddley. This amateur footage I found from the show doesn't quite do justice for the audio (or visuals), but I was there in the flesh and they brought it.

"I Don't Mind"



I previously caught Black Joe Lewis, et al opening for The Hold Steady as well as Man Man, so allow me to testify that their shit is consistent. Be sure to check them out if you haven't. They'll be playing ACL next month before leaving town to tour with Okkervil River.


Treat yourself and stream a sample of Black Joe Lewis & The Honey Bears' album HERE.


another monday mix


like coffee in your cup




East Coastin' - Part 5

DAYS 10 & 11: Philadelphia, PA via Chinatown, NY

I reluctantly woke early with Sarah to engage in the madness of rush hour on the subway, which was just short of a panic attack given the additional weight and girth I was bearing with my cumbersome pack on my back. I avoided eye contact with fellow commuters, stayed towards the front of the train as much as possible, and thankfully it was all over pretty quickly. I climbed the stairs up to East Broadway fighting the gravitational pull of my massive backpack and entered the stinky streets of Chinatown to find my bus to Philadelphia in a state of mild confusion.

"You're going to get off the subway onto East Broadway. Ask someone which way to the bus. They will know what you're talking about. Then just walk a few blocks and someone will see that you are white and have luggage, and will stop you to sell you a bus ticket."

Sarah promised it would be easy enough, and strangely that's EXACTLY how it went down. PLUS it only cost $10!! That's almost as good as when we were charged $5 for two espresso drinks the previous day on account of our barista's laziness. No complaints here.

Oddly, as my bus exited the city I couldn't stop watching the Statue of Liberty as it shifted across the horizon of my window. I found myself completely intrigued by it and as the commuters around me drifted off to sleep for the duration of the two hour trek to Philly, no doubt in their routine commute, I recalled my uncle bringing me to the Statue when I was no more than seven yrs old and how I tried to count all the steps up to the observation deck of her gigantic torch.

The bus dropped us off in Philly and I quickly caught a cab. I was beyond relieved by the fact that the schlepping of bags was in it's final throw. When I made it back to the DeMedio's I felt a sense of home. In a calming state of solitude I was glad to relax and recount the whirlwind of events thrashing around in my overwhelmed mind. It's a beautiful thing to go home, and I'm very lucky to have acquired various elements of whatever "home" is in multiple locations.

Philadelphia has grown on me tremendously since I lived there. Despite it's understandable reputation as filth-adelphia, there are pockets and neighborhoods that feel so warm and inspirational.

fire station mural on South Street

mosaics off South Street
the quaint urban/country feel of old city & queen village is beautiful


Consistent with the best moments in life, I found my time out east went all too quickly. I'm sure my mind is still unraveling the course of events and sentimental details which made this trip a rejuvenating and grounding retreat, so let me just say thanks to everyone for the memories and accommodations. Let's do it again in December.

East Coastin' - Part 4


DAY 9: Brooklyn, NY

I'm definitely glad to have had the opportunity to get into the city while I was out east. Having grown up with frequent holiday visits and every imaginable field trip possible into Manhattan, it's easy to lose appreciation for that which is so accessible.

I met Sarah at the Port Authority in NYC and we trucked back to her Brooklyn apartment with a loose agenda for seeing something "artsy and cultural" per my request. When the exhaustive task of schlepping my bags in the midday heat deterred us from our original plans of making it to the Museum of Modern Art before close, we opted to keep it quirky and stay in BK for the night.

our waiter at Zaytoons was like an urban gypsy

oh, snap!

approaching McCarren Park at dusk

Williamsburg, Brooklyn




East Coastin' - Part 3

DAYS 7 & 8: Stanhope, NJ


Happy 50th, Dad!



East Coastin' - Part 2

Home, sweet home: New Paltz, NY

Since moving away almost two years ago, New Paltz has become my favorite vacation spot. I think you have to step away from something to gain an honest perspective. Being so far away makes it simple to appreciate New Paltz for all it's quirk, charm and beauty.

As far as I'm concerned, my hometown is up there as one of the greatest places going. I'm biased of course, with sentimental attachments galore, BUT my little pride and joy has in fact been recognized by some legit sources.

In 2006, Outside Magazine's feature on "Best Outside Towns" listed New Paltz among the top twenty towns in which America's adventure athletes choose to live.

"The community of climbers here is like a family; everybody's supportive," raves Ivan Greene, part-time resident and five-time Northeast climbing champ. "It's lost in time. And in fall, it's the most beautiful place on the planet."
Agreed.

National Geographic Adventure
ran a similar feature in 2007, polling the "50 Best Places to Live & Play," with New Paltz categorized in the top ten mountain towns.

I guess I feel the compulsion to share this information because a large portion of the country forgets that there is more to New York than a city. You may be surprised to learn that while I am from the great state of New York, I am hardly a city girl, in fact at this very moment there sits a large backhoe in my parent's drive way. Real talk.

my mom always made me wear red clothes,
due to my tendency to sloppily indulge mid-pick


For a handful of years when I was little, my parents hosted Thanksgiving for both sides of the family at our house and I remember my great-grandmother fussing about us living "out in the wilderness", as if we were camping out with Thoreau. Not quite.

main street

The other day my friend Sarah told me about a conversation she recently had which resulted in an attempt to clearly define the term "crunchy" as a way to describe a person, place, or thing, in addition to edibles.

To me, the word is synonymous with the stereotypical Hudson Valley lifestyle. Crunchy is to New Paltz as Guido is to the Jersey shore.

Urban Dictionary defines Crunchy:

Adjective. Used to describe persons who have adjusted or altered their lifestyle for environmental reasons. Crunchy persons tend to be politically strongly left-leaning and may be additionally but not exclusively categorized as vegetarians, vegans, eco-tarians, conservationists, environmentalists, neo-hippies, tree huggers, nature enthusiasts, etc.

In contrast to the rural atmosphere of NP, there is a very present urban influence which comes from the proximity between Albany & NYC, which provides a nice accent and quirk. Basically, it's a silly little melting pot which I'm sure helped cultivate my senses by exposure to all sorts of characters. Very little shocks me these days.

let's get comfortable, bro

Needless to say I have a huge crush on my hometown and everything it has to offer. So, obviously it felt great to enjoy a week long stretch back home with scenic views and great friends.

* * *

rest assured, there will be more East Coastin' coming soon

East Coastin' - Part 1

I just returned from a wonderful little trip to the great northeast. For ten days I reveled in a geographical culture and transit system that inherently makes the most sense to me. There really is nothing that compares to going home. A big burst of fresh air, in some of the dirtiest cities around.

DAY ONE: Austin to Philadelphia, and a little slice of New Jersey

The entire trip was the product of last minute planning, so I was beyond excited when my friends in Philly said that not only could I stay with them after arriving in the "City of Brotherly Love," but that they demanded I join them for the first in a series of Springsteen shows at the Meadowlands. Unbelievable.

I shared the news of my good fortune with a friend back home, who replied with, "I don't know if you're rich or lucky, but either way I'm pretty sure I hate your guts." I see her point. I think I fall in the crossroads, in that I feel rich with luck.

In a series of train rides north from Philly, I looked out my window at flickering scenes of defunct industrial plants, swamps, graffiti murals, and abandoned junkyards of Jersey. The gritty factories and alley views of my journey provided a suitable primer for Springsteen's lyrical tales of the flawed working man, ghost towns, and of course the notorious tri-state area.

After my introspective solo travel, I was overwhelmed by culture shock once my friends picked me up and the pace of events shot into high-gear in route to Giant's Stadium. It was refreshingly hilarious and stereotypical of everything Jersey. Fast talk and authentic pizza passed through the car as we entered the flood of fans tail gating in the stadium lot. The show was an explosive display that brought 60,000 fans to their feet. I was shocked by the reciprocated stamina of crowd and performers. It was amazing.

DAY TWO: Philadelphia to New Paltz

I awoke to stumble around my old stomping grounds in the Old City and Queens Village neighborhoods of east central Philadelphia. I sincerely miss the accessibility of a walking city, but in contrast that day's mission was to find a rental and drive home to New Paltz to surprise my father on his 50th birthday.

The best part of the three hour drive was surfing upon 101.5 and their Jersey Guys' talk show. It's always great when a notorious stereotype reinforces itself. Their topic du jour was the heated tension between Staten Island and the Jersey Shore ignited by Belmar New Jersey Mayor Ken Pringle. It was beyond hilarious to listen to actual Jersey residents calling in to argue the definition of "guido".

Oh, and my father was 100% flabbergasted at the site of me. It was great.

DAY THREE: New Paltz

I went to my favorite breakfast place in town and saw my favorite band, The Felice Brothers! Since they actually live in New Paltz, it's nothing out of the ordinary, but I was awe struck. My dining partner/best friend was baffled by my nervousness, as these boys assume the identity of totally normal townies. I was a mess. Love does funny things to a girl.

it was just like this, only with forks and plates


* * *

To be continued . . .