Saturdays Backwards and Forwards

On this, the last Saturday of 2007, a Saturday retrospective seems appropriate. For me, Saturday mornings more than likely included a mother-daughter breakfast or lunch at a B'town eatery. In fact, I've frequently described many of those meals including breakfast at Cafe D'Lish and lunch at Truilli Flatbread. Saturdays from May through September more than likely also included trips to the eclectic Bloomington Farmers Market. It's a cacophony of cultures, religions, ethnicity and lifestyles that truly epitomize Liberalville.

Once a month, Saturday afternoons were spent having my hair tinted and trimmed at Champs Elysee Aveda Salon. And what would Saturdays be without regular trips to Sam's Club. As I've said many times, when memberships are listed in my obituary, Sam's Club will be the only one. The "sample" ladies now smile when they see Mom and me coming towards them...except when they're offering goo in a hot pocket.

Then Saturday evenings are always spent relaxing at Chateau Hamm in the country, watching for snowfall or the barn swallows to return in the spring. How I love spending Saturday nights on the patio and listening to the tree frogs, crickets and the mother cows calling their calves. Many cold winter Saturday nights, I'm curled up in the recliner with a glass of wine, my crochet project and Lord of the Manor watching a movie or in the steamy summertime, discussing our plans for Sunday on his boat at Lake Monroe.

Now as one year ends and another begins, I look into the future and the 52 weeks of Saturdays ahead. Will the new year bring any changes? Change is always inevitable. But equally as cliche, "The more things change, the more they stay the same." I can only hope that's true for my favorite day of the week.

A Night at the Ballet. Christimas Can Come Now.

Let Christimas time in Bloomington officially begin. For some people,the holiday season begins with the flipping of the switch on the canopy of lights on the Bloomington courthouse square. But for me, it's the Mother-Daughter night at the yearly debut of the Nutcracker ballet at the IU Jacobs School of Music. Last night was the ninth year my mother and I have seen the holiday spectacular and in some cases, watched the community young dancers grow from small candle fairies to important dancers in the company. We've also been fortunate to sit next to parents' from as far away as California who come to see their daughters dance on point to a complete, live orchestra with the direction of some of the world's finest choreographers, costume designers and stage managers.

But for me, its an evening and a holiday tradition my mother and I share like so many other mothers and daughters (and fathers) in the audience. Many times over the years, I've been tired from a stressful week at work, saddened by events out of my control or just wanting to be somewhere else. But then, once I see the towering Nutcracker in the theatre's lobby and see my mother waiting patiently, dressed for a night out, I realize, the evening is about the beautiful music, the wonderful dancers and most of all the Mother-Daughter holiday tradition. I'm so fortunate to be able to share it with my mommy.

Have you switched from cable to satellite TV to see IU Athletics?

Not to be harping on an old theme, but I'm taking an extremely unscientific poll to measure how many people have actually switched from cable to satellite TV to access to IU basketball and other sports not available on Comcast of Insight cable. The polling station is to the right of this post and it will be up for until December 1. Results will be published on the blog and possibly other places if I can interest the Bloomington newspaper.
Please provide any comments in the comment section below.

Insight to Direct TV

In my previous post, I described my parents' drive (literally and figuratively) to watch their beloved Hoosiers. Saturday and their inability to watch their team play Purdue and win the Oaken Bucket finally drove them to make the big switch to satellite TV. The law of supply and demand has taken the day. When you can't supply the big games, the consumer is driven to search for other avenues to satisfy that demand. It's an amazing phenomenon.

Based on the front page article in Saturday's Indianapolis Star, Mom and Dad aren't the only ones feeling the pain inflicted by Insight...Comcast or other Indiana cable TV carriers. Supply and demand has won the day. The free-market economy and the consumers' demand has spoken. But will the suppliers actually listen. More to come.

IU Sports: The Video or Lack Thereof

Thanks to the Big-Ten Network, the IU Athletic Department and our local cable provider, I've been able to spend Saturday afternoons with my parents. Unfortunately, they only have basic cable TV, while the daughter has satellite and the only way to see the IU football games on the Big Ten Network--and other obscure ESPN channels. I love my parents dearly and spend lots of quality time with them throughout the year. But its just damn unfair to them that they have to leave the comfort of their own recliners and my Dad's Saturday afternoon sandwich and beer to drive to my house to watch their game.

They love IU sports and it's one of the reasons they retired to B'town. My dad is a 50+ year I- Man and my mother loves sporting her IU sweatshirt or beads on game days. At 79, it's just too uncomfortable for them to sit for four or more hours in Memorial Stadium.. And even though they grew up listening to the radio, they want to SEE their Hoosiers, not just listen to Don Fisher's play-by-play on wireless.

We only have one more football game in the season (no bowl bids we're sure) and then comes world famous Hoosier hysteria and the promise of another winning basketball team. But like football, they won't be able to watch; those too won't be shown on cable. What's even worse is so many games are at night when Mom and Dad don't go out, so coming to my house will be difficult at best but likely impossible. I'm sure they aren't the only ones saddened by the reality they won't be able to spend their cold, snowy winter nights watching their Hoosiers. It's one of the few enjoyable things you can do in Liberalville in the winter.

For me, I think its absolutely disgusting that the Big Ten is so money hungry that they're depriving loyal fans from following their teams. It's even more sickening, since its based on pure greed. So to the IU Athletic Department and the Big Ten I say, rethink this money making scheme. Some day you might find yourself with no fans at all. You owe it to all the IU alumni who've followed you through thick and thin--good and bad times--scandals and evening the firing of Bobby Knight. How does your concsience let you live, knowing you're depriving so many of so much.

Seeing Blue in Liberalville

If you read my previous post, I revealed to the blogosphere my "red" politics. I really didn't go into much but let's just say I was the female Young Republican of the Year in Indiana sometime at the end of a former decade--oddly enough, my husband at the time was the male counterpart. He went on to be the GOP state chairman in Indiana so suffice to say--I've lived and breathed politics most of my adult life--except for now.

After yesterday's sweeping blue victory here in Liberalville, I'm burrowing my head in a pile of limestone dust and forget I ever knew anything about life in a free-market society...a place where people were encouraged to work, support themselves and their families and spend their own money rather than letting the government do that for them. Life in a community where the people knew that roads, highways and transportation were a necessity rather than a hated and unneeded evil.

So we private enterprise, pro-business folk will forge ever onward--not upward--just onward trying to dodge the obstacles local government throws in our faces for another four years.

Homecoming at Delta Delta Delta

Homecoming and fall at the Tri Delt House in Bloomington brings back special memories--like 1973 when we and the Sig Eps won the grand trophy for best homecoming display. (I was so stressed, worrying about tripping in the middle of the football field at half time when my Sig Ep counterpart and I accepted the trophy for the brothers and sisters.) Sadly, there weren't any lawn displays this year--just painted sidewalks and steps.

You can come home again

Last Saturday was IU homecoming. Even though I'm already "home," homecoming weekend still feels like a special day and time with a holiday aura. B'ton swells with returning alums anxious to show their children, mates or significant others where they guzzled their last collegiate beer, the exact booth where they drank it, and any other sorted details they can remember that could be associated with that particular ritual. The lines at the Steve and Barry's collegiate sportswear outlet curl out to the street and the community sees red (actually cream and crimson) for at least 48 hours. Nicks is standing room only with as many as three generations of IU alumni. (Its a good thing, we know where to find it, since its historical neon sign is nearly unnoticeable due to the concrete fire wall of the apartment construction next door.)

Homecoming 2007 events started Friday afternoon with the customary parade down third street and ending at the Sample Gates. That evening was the annual homecoming concert at Assembly Hall with Bob Dylan the headliner. We've gone from Bob Hope to Bob Dylan and Elvis Costello. It's too much to imagine that Dylan was originally popular with most of the current co-eds' grandparents. Yup. The times, they are a changin'.

Even nature contributed to the festive atmosphere. In spite of the lack of rain and drought conditions, the trees on campus put on a spectacular light show in all imaginable colors of crimson, gold and pumpkin.

And the roads to Brown County and French Lick were bumper to bumper with pilgrims seeking fall color magnificence. They were not disappointed. So with that, I'm glad to share some wonderful images of fall in Bloomingtown.

Pirates of Monroe Revised: Au Revoir Tiki Bar

The established Bloomington grape vine announced last week that the owners of the Inn of the Four Winds will have the hotel demolished in November. Was it the Tiki Bar or the blog that convinced them it was time to for a redo.

If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen, already!

According to the calendar, summer officially left last month. By now our favorite IU sweatshirts and sweatpants with INDIANA across the bum should be the dress of the day. Not when its STILL 90 degrees in Ol' B'town. Central air conditiong bills continue in the mega dollars and Indian summer is just a continuation of Indiana summer.

The heat's also making some people do crazy things--like throwing their support to the Republican candidate for Bloomington's mayor. Eighteen local dems must have had been suffering from heat stroke when they put their names on a mailer saying they're turning their backs on the incumbent and supporting--dare I say it--the REPUBLICAN. That word just sticks in the community's throat like a wad of sour apple bubble gum. And I'm lovin' every minute of it!

Having only voted for one or two donkeys that I can remember, I've always been in the minority around here and have had to swallow hard , grin and bare all the sarcasm and verbal abuse from what I refer to as the "dark side." This is great. Now they're cannibalising themselves--with no help from the right. So if the weather wasn't hot and steamy enough, the election certainly will be.

We can only hope that the temps cool off sooner rather than later and the heat in the kitchen continues to rise.

West Baden: Indiana's 8th Wonder for the World

I am a self-proclaimed "lobbyist." To me, hotel lobbies are some of the best communicators of history, drama, glamour, fairy tales and alternative lifestyles that a person can discover. As a child I loved having my grandmother read me the latest the tales of Eloise at the Plaza Hotel in New York. Then actually going to the Plaza and seeing her life sized portrait in the lobby caused a little girlish giggle. I was mesmerized by the stories of murder and intrigue at the Del Coronado in San Diego and learning that was the spot where the Wizard of Oz was penned, and where Edward, Prince of Wales first met his future lover Wallace Smith, the women who would cause the abdication of the King of England. I was even barred from entering the Ritz in Paris due to improper attire. It seems my jeans were not appropriate for tea at the Ritz.

But I truly believe the lobby of the West Baden Springs Hotel in southern Indiana is the most spectacular lobby I have ever experienced. It's towering, cylindrical shapeand domed ceiling are a testament to 19th century engineering. Before Houston had its Astrodome, the hotel had the largest dome in the world. As so many of those magnificent resorts of the early 1900s, it fell to ruin and barely survived its multiple reincarnations.

Having reopened as a grand dame hotel last May, West Baden's towering, circular lobby is bathed with natural light and shadows from the sun gleaming in through the glass dome ceiling. The entire property has gone through a total metamorphosis. The gardens are once again filled with flowers. The sounds of water fountains have returned. All is well in French Lick and West Baden, Indiana. But take time to see and discover it for yourself.

The New Kids in School

The news came yesterday. Our company was ready to begin a major expansion which meant that all positions (including mine) not directly related to manufacturing would move from CUI in Spencer, Indiana to our global corporate headquarters in Bloomington. "Park 48" (as it's called) is a beautiful facility with lots of extras including a fitness center and an on-site Weight Watchers meeting. It's also closer to home so gasoline money will be saved.

However, the move to Bloomington is bittersweet--especially for many of my coworkers. We have folks in Spencer who've been here virtually since its beginning 30 years ago. I've heard them compare our move to the home office like going to a new school and being the "new kids in class." Finding the men's room. Learning where to sit at lunch without infringing on some one's regular space. Knowing who has the keys to the supply cabinet. Searching for the assigned mustering point during a fire drill. It's all pretty scary and daunting and certainly takes each of us out of our CUI comfort zone.

After a while, new spaces and places will become familiar. What will be more difficult is the splitting of friends and families. This Spencer facility has a wonderful family-like aura . People think about and care for each other and treat one and other like extended family members--even the newbees. We have raffles and bake sales nearly every week to raise money for a cancer patient, support a little league team, or the Cloth-A-Child christmas drive. People in this workplace, a 400+ person community, truly care about and pay attention to each other. I, for one, have never experienced that type of camaraderie in the work place, but since that's the Cook corporate culture no matter what facility we're in, I'm sure we'll find it again at "the new school."

Pirates of the Monroe

Palm trees just are not indigenous to Indiana. No way. Nooooo. So then why in the world does the Inn of the Four Winds on the banks of the US Corp of Engineers-constructed Lake Monroe want people to imagine they've boated in to a Jimmy Buffet marina somewhere in the Caribbean. It's five O'clock somewhere--but not here. But what's even worse, the land entrance to the hotel has fake palm trees stuck in the ground around their welcoming water feature. Come on. Does anyone really believe those darn things are growing there?

The Margaretaville theme is further carried out in the so-called resort's interior. It's so overdone with cheap decorations and fake island stuff that it makes "Fiji Isle" at the Phi Gamma Delta Fraternity House on campus look like a bona fide island paradise. The person who "designed" the Four Winds decor must has been a Tiki-bird pavilion reject at Disneyworld. Those Disney perfectionists wouldn't put up with such ugly, tacky stuff.

Not that it matters, but would the Four Winds please consider scrapping the decor for something a little more subdued and less like a sorority pledge dance or a high school prom run amok. And while you're at, you need to rethink the fish sandwich (or even the entire menu). The poor "san" could use some fish inside the four by six inch glob of deep-fried dough.

Boating season ends October 15. That gives you until April to sink that pirate ship into Davey Jones' Locker.

Truly Scrumptious. Trulli Flatbread

Even Truly Scrumptious, Caractus Potts and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang would love Trulli Flabread, one of the new restaurants in the shadow of the University's Sample Gates. Located directly across from the old Von Lee theatre on Kirkwood, Trulli specializes in locally grown produce, cheeses and meats and formulates them into delectable salads, panninis and the house specialty flatbreads, baked in Trulli's custom designed and constructed brick oven. Managed by the Chef, a graduate of the New England Culinary Insitute and his wife,the couple opened their first flatbread eatery in Mount Pelier, Vermont. It became the fancy of an Indiana University alum during getaway visits from his home in New York. The benefactor encouraged the couple to move to Bloomington and open a mirror image of their Vermont restaurant including an exact replica of the flagships' oven. Trulli Flatbread opened here in late spring/early summer of 2007.

I've eaten there three times now; twice for Saturday lunch and once for dinner and the food was consistently delicious. "Consistent" is the operative word, here. Most Bloomington restaurants are great the first time, just all right the second and by the third visit (or whenever the first flock of wait staff turns over--whichever comes first) both the food and the service usually suck. Trulli Flatbread is the exception.

During all three visits, I had flatbread, of course--each one with different combination of toppings. My favorite was the house special with shrimp, thin strips of jalapeno for heat, sweet red pepper sauce and italian cheese. The crust was wonderful with lots of flavor and crispy on the edges. My partner and I shared an order of the house special mussels which came swimming in a delectable broth, suitable for soaking the olive oiled crustini served along side. I could continue rattling on about all the different selections and the ingredients, but I'll just say try it for yourself.

I do have two minor issues with Trulli Flatbread. The first is it's lack of Sunday hours of operation. I mentioned same to the proprietor and "fingers crossed" Sunday will indeed be added to the hours of operation. ( I think I sparked her interest when she learned there was no Sunday evening food service on or around the campus.) My second point of concern is the noise level. While the restaurant is very simple and chic with loads of gorgeous oak woodwork, there's nothing to absorb the sound so the ambient noise is a bit much--especially for us older diners. The same is true for the upstairs wine bar. A quiet chat over a glass of Taval Rose just isn't possible in the current environment. Both issues are simple fixes and ones that management should "trulli" consider.

One last thing. If you're a lover of Gorgonzola salad dressing, theirs is one of the best. Bon apetite.

Workplace Satisfaction

The front page of the Indianapolis Star today, Labor Day, cites research conducted by Walker Information that reveals only 29% of Hoosier employees are committed to their employers. I'm proud to say, "count me in!" It's taken more than three decades but I finally look forward to getting up and going to work every morning and leaving at a normal time without gilt that I should be putting in at least eight more hours before going home. I can even taken vacation knowing my job will still be there when I return and not be mysteriously deleted from the organization chart.

It's probably shameful to admit that I love my work, my job and my profession--not many people do these days. According to the Star article, Walker found that nearly 40% of employees don't like the companies they work for, "don't plan to stay, and would bolt" if another job came along. That's a terribly sad statistic since most people spend the majority of their lives at work. I can truly attest to how stressful it can be to spend 40+ hours a week in a place where you feel terribly ill at ease and even "shunned." But it's those kind of experiences that make one appreciate the work environment that's welcoming, empowering and gratifying--such as the one I now enjoy.

So today, on this Labor Day as a working person, I'm celebrating my victory of finally doing what I love; with people I respect and admire; and most important, for an employer that strives to improves the quality of life for people around the globe...as well as its employees.

Rain Dancers Wanted Immediately

I hate to admit this, but Al Gore might have been right--not about creating the Internet--but global warming. Maybe that's the cause of the desert conditions we've been living. Not only have we been without any noticeable precipitation for what seems like months, the temperature's been hovering between 95 and 100 degrees for the same amount of time. It's been so hot and dry, that is seems the Bloomingtonions are going through the same type of cabin fever we suffer each February. It's not pretty! Crime goes up. People are cranky and ornery and just want the season to change...or at least a bit of cloud cover. Even some schools are letting out early for the heat...just like the winters and snow storms. As you see in the photo, a gaggle of college ducklings blew up their wadding pool for a Friday afternoon swim in the middle of Dunn Meadow. (You know Dunn Meadow--the playground for students earning advanced degrees in Frisbee throwing or war protesting and the Sigma Chi intramural football team.)

Then there's the draught. While our Midwestern neighbors have so much water their creating adjunct great lakes, our ponds are so dry that fish are becoming amphibians and heading for the high grass to keep cool. My gardens have gone into a terminal state of dormancy and any grass that's green is an extra hardy strain of crab. This weekend, we sat and watched the red globs on the "Doppler 9000 Super Whopper" weather radar with fingers crossed just hoping those globs would dump on us. Instead the clouds just slid right over our little Bloomington without so much as a droplet of rain. But as folks around here say, "Stick around. The weather will change." But why is it taking so long? Maybe I'll have to break down and read "the Algore's" book after all.

Hang 'Em High...But Why?

For some mysterious and utterly bizarre reason, throwing one's worn out sneakers, baby shoes or Dr. Martens on a power line across a Bloomington street has become an Olympic sport. When the little student darlings are done pitching their piles of junk on the curbs, they finish their rite of passage with the semi-annual shoe toss. It takes a lot of strength and skill to hurl a pair of size 13, triple-digit-costing, "nothin' but net" Nikes that high above one's head. Even IU's greatest, tallest basketball center of all time would have a struggle.

No local seems to know why they do it, either. It's a Bloomingtonian mystery. One theory is that the shoes signal a neighborhood "drug store" and "pharmacist" is nearby. We can only hope we don't have THAT many on every street in the student ghetto.

Or the shoe toss might be a form of sobriety test. "If the shoes don't hang, man, you need another beer." Their senses and reflexes aren't in the proper state of numbness.

I ask you, dear readers, help me out here. Anyone have any ideas what the shoes on the line are all about?

Dumpster Diver Nervana.

The two months beginning with "A" are dumpster diver holidays here in B'town. Those are the two months when the kiddy widdy winkeys clear out the student ghettos and leave four years of junk at the curb for big trash pickup. The students seldom read the local news so have no idea when that's scheduled. As a result, the sidewalks are lined with entire living room suits, computers and printers, tropical fish tanks (often with the fish included), mattresses and at least a semester's (or maybe even a final's week) worth of imported beer bottles.

We're not quite sure how much of the stuff actually gets hauled away. Our professional divers have loads of time to cruise the neigbhborhoods looking for garage sale loot or new "used" junk they can sell to incoming students' to furnish bedrooms, living rooms, front porches --or even rooftops. (I can't even imagine sleeping or laying on some of this stuff which I'm sure is home to numerous varieties of cock roaches and other Hoosier vermin or mildewed and moldy from four years of spilled beer and other fluids.)

And then there's the stuff that dumpster dreams are made of--those rare items that find good, long-term homes somewhere in Bloomington suburbia. I have a very close friend that went for a dive in the dumpster his shop shares with upstairs student tenants. What wonderful prizes were won! What treasures were carted home! After uttering the necessary "Oh, yuck, how gross. You found those where?" I immediately encouraged them to be loaded in the dishwasher and cleansed at the highest temperature possible. We then proceeded to use them to cook Saturday night supper.

To the parents I saw today in our Target store--fear not. All that stuff your little darlings just had to have will certainly be left behind at graduation. But rest assured, somewhere, sometime, it will once again be contributing to Bloomington's greater good. In a town that goes absolutely ga ga over recycling, dumpster diving is our form "community service."

Schedule your Outlook and sync your PDAs. Dumpster season opens again at the end of next April.

Les Champs en Bloomington

Every August I start getting the urge to return to Paris. Mais, alor, the closest I'm getting this year is Les Champs Elysee right here in town. But that's OK. My self-pampering budget stretches a lot farther in the City of Blooms than the City of Light.

I discovered the Aveda day spa and salon right after it opened in 2004. I needed a touch up on my greys and my longstanding salon just wasn't cutting it--so to speak. I think it was the scalp burn from the caustic chemicals a.k.a. hair tints that forced me to find another beauty shop. Donna Disque, half of the mother/daughter ownership team, immediately took me under her wing and assuaged my fears that, yes, there was a salon that could color and cut grey, wavy hair without causing tortuous pain and suffering.

Les Champs is a terrific place to eavesdrop, which I do quite often while I'm waiting for my color to cook. I especially enjoyed the day when five, adorable "tweens" came for their first manicures, pedicures, and makeup instructions--all to celebrate one girl's 12th birthday. Then there was the Saturday when the entire salon staff had spent the morning styling bridesmaids' up-dos and painting their nails for a famous NFL quarterback's mega-wedding. In March, during the week leading up to spring break, the Champs waxing technician earned 5 digits getting the IU Chickie's defuzzed and denuded for the beach. (I didn't even ask how many hundreds of toes were made "flip-flop-ready" during the same six days.)

Mere, Donna et fils, Margarite are on first name basis with everyone and treat every customer like they, too, are the bride of a Superbowl quarterback. Complimentary mini facials and manicures are ways that each client gets a little "value added" from the Disque duo.

Les Champs in Bloomington isn't quite like the Parisian version. But Donna and Margarite (and sometimes grandmere, Mary Anne) make me feel like it is.

The White Rabbit: Then and Now

Close your eyes, climb aboard the dream weaver train and imagine Bloomington in the tied-dyed, smoke-filled, apple-wined 1970's. If you were here, you certainly remember the "White Rabbit." As eclectic as the community it served, White Rabbit was an emporium of the tacky and naughty--hanging beads, Indian print bed throws, lava lights, smelly incense, and pink lawn flamingos and lots more. It was THE PLACE to go for the latest in dormitory decor. The proprietors, Keith and Ken, had the most popular kitsch around. Then sadly, Starbucks' real estate agents agreed to pay a higher price for their famed location and the boys were forced out.

The White Rabbit Today and the Decorative Rug
Today, White Rabbit is a digital printing shop sharing space with the Decorative Rug cum antique store. As a marketing person, I've thought it was a bit curious how one could cross-sell tribal rugs, color copies and book binding--but it seems to work. What's not flying off the shelves is the fine collection of Hull ceramics, original Fiesta ware, carnival glass and other collectible antiques whose provenance has all be painstakingly detailed by Keith's mother, their purveyor. I thought the classic ice cream table with four chairs would find a new home with in hours of its arrival. Oddly, no. The White Rabbit antiques are superb and deserve a good look.

The Rabbit and Rug are located downtown on the county courthouse square at the corner of 6th and College. Hours are Monday through Saturday, 10 a.m. to about 5:30. And if you stop, say hi to Keith and Ken and tell 'em Gail sent you.

The New Bisquits and Gravy in Town

From May through October, Saturday mornings mean a Mom-and-Gail trip to the farmer's market and either breakfast or lunch. Today it was breakfast. Earlier in the week, friends had mentioned a new eatery called Cafe D'Lish that specialized in "good old food." No truffle-oil sprinkled omelets, goat cheese and anchovy scones or vegan muffins, but the type of food most small towns have for breakfast. D'Lish is also the kind of cafe that hopefully is coming back after communities turned to Mickey D's and BK's for our daily bread.

Located just west of the square on Kirkwood, Cafe D'Lish replaced the former Cafe Talent. The owners, Donna Stephens and Randy Groh are professional restaurant folks so the service was quick and Nicole, their cook, did a fab job--especially on her French toast with homemade, fresh blueberry sauce. I heard others going ga ga over a sample of Nicole's "Jamaican-Me-Crazy Chili." I snatched up a menu to see the entire list of offerings. Not only is the food especially reasonable, but in a town were the Sisco food distributor has a monopoly on virtually anything served in every restaurant for miles, the words "Made Fresh Daily" hit a high note.

Like breakfast, the lunch menu looks like the "who's who" in down-home, blue plate specials--chicken and dumplings, friend chicken livers, meatloaf, lots of side choices and of course ye' ole' breaded tenderloin. (No place in Indiana can be successful without one of these favorite sandwiches--regardless of the importance of trans fats and clogged arteries.) Desserts include southern Indiana favorites, red velvet cake and blackberry cobbler along with butter cake and chocolate peanut butter pie.

Breakfast is served 6:00 a.m. to 11:00 and lunch from 11:00 to 3:00 p.m. Most importantly, they're open on Sunday!

Thanks, Cafe D'Lish. Bloomington needed a downtown place like this since the previous version, Ladyman's, was run out by a big, bad ass ad agency whose owner just HAD to build his "global headquarters"right on top of Ladyman's spot on the city map. (That's material for future blogs).

The Ventriloquist and The Exorcist

Sophie and Kyle
It's been quite a week in Bloomington. A good friend's nine-year old daughter Sophie won her division at the Monroe County Fair talent contest. Well, it was actually a duo--Sophie and her dummy friend, Kyle. I mean "dummy" in the right sense...the kind of dummy like Charlie McCarthy... the kind that sits on your lap and moves its lips while you smile sweetly and throw your voice into its mouth--or something like that.

Bless Sophie's heart. A year ago she was fighting for her life at Riley Children's Hospital then suffering from the affects of large doses of steroids. Sophie must have learned her skills for ventriliquism during her months of recuperation. We know she was taught by her mother and her maternal grandmother. I've been told that Sophie's mom was quite an accomplished ventrilquist and performed with her dummy in the Miss Louisiana beauty contest. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

The Exorcist.
The Bloomington Herald Times reported this week that a chap named Eddie Uyesugi, a minister- in- training at the Cherry Hill Ministries in Bloomington, faces preliminary charges of confinement and battery with injury in the beating of a 14 year old autistic boy during the process of casting out demons e.g. exorcism.

According police reports, Kim Norris, the Cherry Hill church pastor said that the school teaches how to cast out demons, but students are only able to practice [the art of exorcism] after graduating from the Church's 2 1/2 year program. In another report, Norris noted, "A ritual to cast out demons is part of the school's teaching manual, but only after graduating from the program are people qualified to cast out spirits--and its done in church, not the home.

...I know that makes me feel a lot better. Exorcism could really hurt the property values! Who want's to knowingly live next door to a demonizer or someone who makes a living out of taunting the devil.

A Stromboli Like No Where in the World

Nearly every region or city has its signature sandwich. Maine has the lobster roll, Philadelphia has the Philly steak sandwich, Chicago has the hotdog and San Diego has the fish taco. In Bloomington--its the Stromboli sandwich. Available in the whole and half versions, crusty, French-like bread with sesame seeds is coated in side with pizza sauce, then piled high with crumbled Italian sausage, onions and mozzarella cheese. The sandwich is then slide into a pizza oven to melt the cheese and slightly toast the bread.

Then comes the service. No strom can be served without a heaping handful of bread and butter slices--not dill pickles or sweet gherkins--bread and butter pickles. I don't actually know why. But I do know its not a strom until the pickles are added.

Back in the day, before college co-eds shunned cholesterol and meat protein, stroms were the "delivered-to-you-door" late-night favorite snack. The lenght of the sandwich was directly related to the date situation of the evening.

Whole, 12-inch versions were usually eaten by us poor souls who were left at the sorority house on a Saturday night. In between bites, we'd grumble and curse the frat jerks we'd been dating for months who then decided to invite other chickies to the world's greatest college weekend.

Smaller sandwiches were reserved for Sunday nights or mid week snacks. Being smaller, they were easier to eat and caused less guilt in front of the 90 pound "sisters".

Where do you go for the best Bloomington Stroms?

The answer is simple--Kirkwood Avenue. If you're under 21 or prefer soft drinks to hard ones, it's The Cafe Pizzaria, and Nicks English Hut if you're over the legal age. They're only a few doors apart. Both are authentic and delicious. Your choice depends on the type of beverage you prefer to wash down every morsel. Most of us prefer a cold beverage of the hops and malt variety. More important, both Nicks and the Pizzaria have been landmarks in Bloomington for generations...and sometimes you'll see representatives of each one sitting all at one table gobbling up every crumb of sausage and fightening over the last pickle.

Preparing for the Yearly Migration

In only a few weeks, the IU students will begin their annual migration back to town and swelling our population by a mere 30,000. Streets are crowded. Parking places disappear and the inventory at the local Target, Bed Bath and Beyond and other student-frequented stores swells to keep up with the additional bodies. Its not uncommon to see microwaves and dorm-sized refrigerators stacked to the ceilings at Kroger, lines in cell-phone stores out the doors and parents totally bewildered by the thousands of items their kiddy-widdy winkeys have to have to successfully complete at four years of school with a college degree.

The foreign students have it really hard. They have a difficult time learning "Southern Indiana" for words like "warshing your clothes,"" squarshing a bug" or having Chinese "carry out", rather than "take away." Asian students have told me that ordering at the local golden arches is particularly stressful. "Do you want fries with that?" just doesn't fit nicely into their hand held translators.

So as the last few weeks of summer continue on, we "locals" are starting to prepare--eating at all our favorite restaurants, parking in as many slots as we can find and enjoying all the strained and painful looks on the freshmen parent faces.

Welcome To The Town Around IU

Bloomington, Indiana is a unique and extremely diverse community--often called the Berkley of the Midwest. All the nuts on the east and west coasts have rolled to the middle and landed right here in Southern Indiana. But there's another side of Bloomington. While the "Gown side" as it"s called is populated with ivory-towered scholars, the "Town side" are good, hardworking, salt-of-the-earth Hoosiers (whatever that is). They eat bisquits and sausage gravy with a side of hash browns and ketchup and teach their children that hard work and a good education is what they need--not a MP3 players,cell phone and the like.

In the days and months ahead, this special blog will bring to life the people and community I've loved overlast nine years I've lived here. Thursday and Friday night Happy Hours at Nicks, our ageless pub. Wednesday nights on the lake watching John Mellencamp and his family water ski, the loss of a favorite football coach, the winning of a NCAA Basketball Championship and all the little things that make Bloomington, Indiana one of the most eclectic and memorable communities in Indiana--the Midwest and maybe even the United States.

Stay tuned. There's more to come.