Death of the 'man hug' - its about time!!

It's time we washed our hands of the inappropriate and overly tactile man hug, says H.E. Lewis

America – The noisiest place that ever existed

Please, be quiet! I say this to myself all the time, for if I were to say it out loud, I would get looks that would kill or worst yet, the noise would continue louder and unabated. Noise can be defined as any sound you don’t want to hear and there is a plethora of that in the USA today. What the ‘heck’ is going on, I say to myself?  its my take only of course, that American’s dread silence and must fill that gap with the din of cellular phones, computer games, music so loud it shocks the body, whatever. It seems to me that the mind’s appetite for stimulation is like  the body’s need for food. Americans; their mind, their brains has gotten so used to audio stimulation, it craves noise – making it a substance that American’s abuse like other stimulates, such as coffee, sugar, alcohol and even rock n roll and hip hop ( the worse of all stimulants) 
 A French author once remarked that “All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone. So I say to my fellow Americans, “Sit down and shut up!”

"Give me the simple life" - well kind of when it comes to food................

In 1946, Harry Ruby and Rube Bloom wrote a lovely song entitled 'Give me the simple life" and last night that song filled my head after watching ( my wife watches it, I don't as a rule) another boorish, pompous cooking contest show  this one called 'Iron chef'
Whatever happened to straight forward, great tasting cuisine, devoid of scores of ingredients, platted towers of food, silly foams (foams should be left on the beach) and over all, just boorish cooking. 
I have been on a quest over the last several years, to find restaurants and chefs who have returned to the glory days of cooking, great 'heavy' sauces, simple country dishes, the comfort food of my youth ( and I am not talking about Mac and cheese here!, god forbid) I am talking about the great dishes of British and French cooking. One that I love and return to time and time again, especially in London, especially at Wiltons (in St James) is Sole meuniere. 

If you have never had that dish, prepared correctly, you have not eaten.
At Wiltons, they prepare the sole, so that its  been perfectly sauteed to a Platonic ideal of golden brown and the butter melted to the limpid yellow of young Sauternes.
So, when all the silliness of today's chefs is long gone, the Classic way of cooking will always remain ( I will admit - sometimes hard to find these days) and be found in spots in London and Paris and the French countryside.  
So when I sing out 'Give me the simple life" I mean such things as smoked salmon, Stilton Cheese, after dinner Savories, Sole Meuniere, rabbit with mustard, duck with olives ( an after dinner cigar) and so many other classics. Now that's eating and enjoying the simple life!

London - The only place to shop for men's clothing - then and today, it has not changed

Although Paris to me is the end-all, be-all, but when it comes to men’s clothes, its London and London only, ( St James to be exact) where I have shopped for more years than I care to remember, and there is no street in London where the ghosts of the 18th century crowd so thickly as St. James's Street. Adjacent Pall Mall may be described as the heart of clubland with its great places standing cheek by jowl, their marbled halls and vast rooms vying with one another in Victorian ostentation, but turn up St. James's Street toward Piccadilly and the elegance of Regency architecture at once asserts itself. The old coffee and chocolate houses once patronized by men of fashion, now clubs like Boodle's, Brooks's and White's, still present their stylish facades to passersby. It was at White's that Beau Brummel once remarked how he liked to sit in the window with his cronies ''watching the damned people getting wet outside.'' Today they are still the most exclusive of all London's clubs. It is not surprising that it is in St. James's Street that you will find businesses that have served the ''quality'' for 200 years and still quietly carry on their trade unchanged by time. Berry Brothers and Rudd at No. 3 is London's oldest wine merchant, and nearby stands John Lobb where, in the comfortable atmosphere of A good club, one can be fitted for the world’s finest footwear at around $500. 

And one of my favorites is Lock and Co. Older than either, at 6 St. James's Street, is Lock and Company, the hatters who trace their origins back to 1676. In an earlier age everyone wore a hat. To be seen outdoors - and on occasion indoors - without one was as unthinkable as taking a stroll along Piccadilly without trousers. By and large anyone who was anyone beat a path to the door of Mr. Lock. My favorite hat, a Trilby was bought here many years ago and to this day (I wear it only in London) is a great source of style and pride with me.

Cordings - A men's store in London saved by a Rock & Roll legend.................Eric Clapton

I have always, since I was very young and was able to begin to understand the difference between 'off the rack' and bespoke clothing and the quality of such, have been attracted to London clothing and tailoring. Still to this day, I buy most of my clothing from London haberdashers. One store that I love is Cordings in Piccadilly. 
Cordings (established in 1839) is a men and women's clothing shop specializing in posh English country items like tweed jackets and Tattersall shirts and shooting wear.
A few years ago, I was sadden to learn that this over 100 years in business store  might close due to financial problems and that the young people were not buying their clothes at these types of stores. But then, at the last moment, an Rock and Roll legend ( since I don't follow this kind of music) I was not familiar with the name, he decided to buy an interest in the store and has saved it. For that, I salute him!. The following is a video about his interest in my favorite men stores ( OK - one of them) in London.

Cinnamon rolls with bacon - dear Mother of God - It can't get any better than this!

'Here's Adventure...Here's Romance".....Here's................. the Cisco Kid!

In the early days of television, there were many cowboy-30 minute shows...among them was Hopalong Cassidy, Roy Rodgers, Gabby Hayes, the Long Ranger and many others, but what I patiently waited for, week after week, was the 'Cisco Kid'.  The show started with an exciting, romantic theme song and narration, then Duncan Renaldo and Leo Carrillo appeared, made small talk, laughed and then rode off into the western landscape. 
The Cisco Kid and his English-mangling sidekick Pancho traveled the old west in the grand tradition of the Lone Ranger, righting wrongs and fighting injustice wherever they find it.
These two gentlemen had style that the others did not. I was a big fan from 1950 to 1956, when their series ended.
My biggest thrill, was when my grandfather took me to the local bank (where I had a savings account) to deposit my weekly allowance and there was Duncan Renaldo! I got a chance to introduce myself and talk to him for a bit and got his autograph.. It was a thrill I still cherish. 
How I miss that show and the both of them,................
All I can say is
"                         OH CISCO...OH... PANCHO"

What can be better than a sandwich from Langer's in Los Angeles? I ask you?

The Invention of the ball is the greatest single disaster to befall man................

Americans,no, Europeans no, it seems man in general worldwide insists on playing games with small or large spheres and To me its a terrible waste of time and energy. The civilized nations of the world should not encourage it.  But alas, I am spreading the word to an uncaring world.
My having played ( or forced to play) baseball for many,many, many years, I can tell you, I never enjoyed on minute of it nor have I enjoyed watching sports of any kind. 
Sport as I have discovered, fosters international hostility and leads fans, no doubt from boredom, to assault and does grievous bodily harm while watching it. The fact that audiences at the Disney hall rarely break bottles over one another's heads, and that Opera fans  seldom knee one another in the groin during long intervals 
( especially at Richard Wagner Opera's) at the Dorothy Chandler convinces me that theatre is safer than sport.