Real Disaster? 8:2

Dear Reader,

The last weekend provided what some here on diablog must have considered a real disaster. But surprisingly, it passed in total silence. And I, as a non soccer person, had to learn about it on twitter.

Not a word came from our soccer enthusiasts here. Why?

The drama seems to be rooted in strange numbers:

8 : 2

Not really sure what that means, but I stumbled over this on twitter:

And somehow I recall at least Glynsky somehow being involved with Arsenal. So, why the silence? What happened? What are Arsenal fans being reimbursed for? Why no comment from Pete?

Deeply concerned,
Engine Room

NYers + Weather = Nuts!

Dear Reader,

My diablog recommendation regarding Irene had been: ignore it.
Our beloved commentator Smiles kindly asked how it went and that gives me the opportunity to criticizes NYers for their obsession with “bad weather”. And that is something guaranteed to make Glynsky happy. Not that he matters.

Irene was no big deal. The politicians went crazy, because nobody wanted to look as bad as Bush after Katrina. Naturally. The bonus for politicians was also, they could claim to “care about the people”, an opportunity too good to be missed. So we evacuated people, shut down air traffic and public transportation and played disaster for two days. Nothing happened, game over, back to normal.

And that leads to the point: What weather related behavior is normal in NYC?

Normal is, NYC has way over 200 days with sunshine annually. It is America’s most Northern city with “subtropical climate”. And you can see the impact every day, people are walking around with happy faces. It is tough to make a stern face, when the sun is shining all the time.

On the other hand, we are spoiled. And we go nuts sometimes. How? Continue reading “NYers + Weather = Nuts!”

another bit from the found archive 14, i get around…

Dear diablog,

The Sasha Fisher archive gets more and more interesting – particularly as we keep finding puzzles and enigmas – many of which will follow as we unearth (or at least, try to unearth) facts, place and people.

One thing is sure, he certainly must have led an interesting life if for nothing else in the company he kept. There are more pictures of women than in Playboy, sadly few tagged or noted as to location or people.

Who on earth are this lot (sorry if it goes into the margin Pete but it’s worth it)?

I notice that it has a caption on the bottom left with what appears to be the word ‘pub’ which I assume to be for publicity and not the Queens Head!

Whoever they are they seem to be having a good time and I would guess, from the fashion and hairstyles that it is in the late ’50’s to mid ’60’s. Recognise your mum? Let us know!

Mind you, one wonders how safe they were in the company of a man who… Continue reading “another bit from the found archive 14, i get around…”

Happy 50th Anniversary Motown

Dear Reader,

Again diablog has to apologize for our very dear, funky Mr. Glynsky missing the beat. The self-proclaimed music expert, lover of everything R&B, spent the day in front of the TV (telly for the English) watching the 2nd biggest perversion of racing, aka F1. I guess, only NASCAR is further from real racing then that. And I would not want to be caught watching either.

So what did the wannabe R&B connoisseur miss?

The 50th anniversary of the first #1 Pop hit of Motown Records, “Please, Mr. Postman” by the Marvelettes with lead singer Gladys Horton and Marvin Gaye on drums. The same Marvin Gaye, known for Heard it through the Grapevine and Sexual Healing. Glynsky will probably insist, that this hit song was first recorded by Smokey Robinson & the Miracles. Fugettaboutit!

Here is a small collection of Motown-Hits

including The Supremes with the one and only Diana Ross.

Stay tuned,
Engine Room

How to test a chef or kitchen

Dear Reader,

My knowledge about food preparation is very limited. Or better, I am useless in the kitchen except for cutting or slicing onions.

Glynsky on the other hand claims to be a wizard in the kitchen. But I suspect all he does is tasting what Mme. Glynskette prepares. And by tasting I mean inhaling completely before it even leaves the kitchen.  

Anyway, I heavily depend upon restaurants, another reason for me to love the city with its 13,000+ restaurants. Beat this, London.

If you cannot cook – already pasta is a challenge for me – judging the chef is relatively important. For your hard earned money you do want high quality food, don’t you?

Luckily, there are three dishes that make it easy to test a kitchen, and I love all three:

Sauce Hollandaise  (shown over asparagus)

Crème Brûlée

Mousse au Chocolat

Souce Hollandaise of course is one key part of my beloved Eggs Benedict.

Crème Brûlée and Mousse au Chocolat are my two all time favorite desserts.

All three dishes are notoriously difficult to make. So, if a chef does them well, you’d be safe in that restaurant. The kitchen is unlikely to disappoint you, the chef is not an amateur.

On a side note, all three dishes are French, nothing Italian, Glynsky, or out of London. The most difficult Italian dessert, as far as I know, is a fluffy, warm mousse of wine, “Sabbaione” or something. Oh well, I can live perfectly well without.

Out to get food, yes, again,
Engine Room

Irene or no Irene, indulge yourself

Dear Reader,

While parts of the world are obsessed with Irene, diablog gets my indulgences of tonight.
After a quarter pound cheeseburger, medium – cheddar cheese, and a delicious Creme Brulee, the best dessert in the world, I had one of these:

Oban, 14 years old, along with one of these:


Macanudo Portofino.
This will now be followed by one of these:

Balvenie Doublewood, 12 years old, along with one of these:


Le Hoyo du Gourmet by Hoyo de Monterrey.
(Cuban, find a trustworthy dealer, be a regular)

Let the world go nuts and spoil yourself,
Engine Room

Glynsky and his PC help line

Dear Reader,

The following story, which some might consider less then flattering for Glynsky, is told upon Glynsky’s very own request.

Yesterday Glynsky called with a minor computer problem. Somehow he thinks I know stuff, which I don’t, so he calls me.

The difference between Glynsky and me is not knowledge.
It is the fact that I am naturally curious, plus, I read.

With all his rumblings about cars, his antique Alfa Romeo fleet, his racing experiences, one would expect Glynsky to have some knowledge about technology. Or interest in it. Or at the very least some respect.
He is far from any of that.

This is Glynsky in front of his computer:

An error message shows up?
Glynsky ignores it.

Something does not happen right away?
Glynsky clicks the mouse button ferociously a million times.

Glynsky is offered choices?
Without hesitation (or reading!) he picks one, usually the wrong one.

Glynsky is the equivalent of a car driver, who is annoyed by some red warning light. And, instead of finding out what might be wrong (oil? breaks? battery?) and fixing it or driving to a garage to have it fixed – sticks her chewing gum over the warning light.
Problem out of sight, problem solved. 
Back to driving while doing make up, texting and swearing at other drivers.

Of course, such a driver would never be allowed to even touch any of Glynsky’s cars.  

Stay sane,
Engine Room