More Croquet Chat - New BCDC Logo unveiled at Gala!

The ice sculpture of a single blade of our club's proprietary hybrid of Zoysia and Bermuda grass was slowing dripping its life away amidst the boisterous clatter of a bunch of croquet heads pounding Mallet Mashes (BCDC signature cocktail) whilst talking trash away from the pitch. Adding to the general cacophony was Die Valkyrie on a loop at deafening levels, all members idiotically thinking it was anthemizing their pre-season attack dialogue (when in fact the song belonged exclusively to The Course Whisperer as per a fine print clause in the contract all members had blindly signed after a few MMs at his Bed Stuy Atelier one snowy evening in 2009). Like the game, it's all details and angles. Why were we gathered at this exclusive fete in the rec room of the Bedford Armory on Sumner Avenue? It was an unveiling of the exciting new logo of the BCDC. This new icon does not replace our classic original logo, but provides an alternate logo that appeals to a different design aesthetic, namely the 60s Espresso machine aficionado crowd, which dovetails into the vintage Ducati crowd, which tolerates the vintage Lambretta crowd, which lassos the Rock Steady kids, which of course pulls in the Vinyl collector, arcane rare groove crowd. I like all these people, so lets welcome our new logo and our new potential members.

If you'd like a tee with this logo on it, email me and I'll make you one, in the aforementioned atelier. Word.

There's 10 inches of snow on the ground - let's talk CROQUET!!!

Some of you may know that the Communal Brands winos like to unwind with unflinchingly vicious croquet when possible. There have been t-shirts made to prove that we can wear t-shirts...and of course validate our fledgling club. The club is called the BCDC which stands for Brooklyn Croquet and Drinking Club and we generally play in Prospect Park, but have artfully arranged wickets in Long Island and the Catskills as well for the purpose of humiliation and bragging rights. People who even have an inkling of what croquet is about generally think it's about putting a ball through a metal arch sunk into the grass. This is true, but the arch is called a wicket and the balls are called balls and one utilizes a mallet, gripped appropriately to perform this task. What is more true is that putting the ball through the wicket is actually secondary to the primary task: preventing your opponents from doing aforementioned wicket transcendence. The art of screwing other players on the grass is really where the rubber hits the road when it comes to good times at a BCDC outing and if you've got a vein of wicked running somewhere through your corpus, you'll find croquet very deeply satisfying.

Sooooo, while we've been happily smacking each others balls in Brooklyn, NY, thinking we were clever AND cute to be playing such a quaint game, we've been blithely ignoring our rival Brooklyn Croquet Club that's been around a lot longer than us in, can you guess where? Fucking right! New Zealand! Can you believe it? Here we are, being led on the pitch by our stalwart Kiwi cock-of-the-walk croquet master, Dan Saunders, aka Mr. Through & Screw, and all the while there's a Kiwi club called the Brooklyn Croquet Club!

Upshot: I hereby challenge, on all the rights and authority of being a founding member and creative director of the BCDC, also known to those who matter as The Course Whisperer...where was I, oh yeah, I challenge The Brooklyn Croquet Club to a round in Prospect Park, Brooklyn, NY, USA on June 12th at 1 PM in the Great Meadow. Let's see if these turkeys show up!

My mandatory 1 year blogging ban has been served!

Who knew that if you published a video of a suggested romance between a turkey and a bottle of wine, a uproar of disproportionate size would result? I was a facking joke, for Christ's sake! Be warned: those PETA freaks do not take kindly to even the hint of exploitation - heck, I thought I was actually giving this turkey a pretty exciting day leading up to his inevitable decapitation, decavitation and third-party degustation! It's like putting a terminally ill kid into an action movie and using him like a crash test dummy - what's the harm? Especially if he has a lark doing doing it? Our country is so chock full of people who know better (usually I'm one of them), it's amazing anyone is still thinking for themselves. I salute you, Otto, for still being the master of your own grey matter, even if you do use it so very narrowly - excluding that sick corner that covets Turkey love! What other dark corners do you possess? Hmmmmmmmm.

Well, I suppose you learn something every year. I've taken a closer gander at Otto and sure enough. You know, you think you know somebody...

Videos, not Viruses

So we made a few videos promoting our wine as being a willing partner for Turkey (not to mention, sweet potatoes, kale, mashed potatoes, etc - the full Thanksgiving repast) and have posted it on YouTube. I'll provide the link at then end of the post - everyone stops reading right now and goes to bottom - but I'm sure you all want to read about the experience.

I strapped my video camera and tripod and a few bottles of Pinot and some glasses to my Trusty BMW R1100R motorcycle - a true friend of mine (Barry Michael Winegarten, born 11/94) - and headed out to the pre-arranged location for my shoot, The Goffle Road Poultry Farm in Wyckoff, New Jersey, famous for being the town that spat out the Jonas Brothers and also years ago was in the spotlight for breeding a pair of teens who dumped their newborn in a dumpster after the prom. Babies are so interfering in teenage matters. This poultry farm also happens to be 10 minutes from my childhood home in Ridgewood, NJ and I have passed it countless times but never have gone in. According to the owners it's been there for 80 years and "ain't going anywhere." Love grandfathered stuff.

After the owner took me to the Turkey pen, he left and I was left to get my equipment sorted and do some test shots. All was looking good when who shows up? My parents. Andy and Sandy. Me: "What the fuck are you guys doing here?" Them: "We wanted to annoy the shit out of you." Me: "Perfect. Thanks." Them: "Well,our work is done here, we'll see you later." And they left after ascertaining exactly how long I was going to be having sex with the Turkeys. I assured them that Turkey sex was a pretty quick thing and that I'd be available to have chili dogs (texas wieners) with them in one half hour. They left and the owner/Turkey wrangler returned.

A turkey was hooked by the ankle, though turkeys don't really have discernable ankles, and brought out of the pen to frolic with Otto. Then the Turkey freaked out and tried to attack me. The owner instructed me to "protect your eyes. They go for the eyes." Fucking turkeys know how to fight! Damn!

I decided that going into the pen full of Turkeys with the wine was the only way to get it done. So I climbed into the wall-to-wall, shit-carpeted pen with camera and wine. The turkeys immediately formed a phalanx and attacked me with all their might. In a blur of talons and beaks I managed to shoot the videos you're about to see. I ended up with 36 stitches mostly in my face, but I look tougher and got some great stuff on tape. Hope it sells some wine!

Otto Videos

The Perfect Fall Chronograph

Not sure what it is about Fall, but the first cool day with dappled sunshine really gets me excited for a few things: vintage flannel hunting jackets, braised meats, pinot noir (OCD, natch), the smell of decaying leaves, fireplaces, my annual Fall Classic ping pong tourney and vintage chronographs on leather bands. Has to be on a leather band. I'm going to get to all these excellent topics, particularly decaying leaves, at some point soon, but today I'm just going to speak of my favorite vintage chronograph:


Why chronographs in the fall? Simple - I've worn divers all summer and now it's time to give a more complex and sometimes colorful face a rotation in with outfits that are layered and more complex than my summer uniform of urban camo Speedos, wife-beater, heavy gold chain with horn and vintage Bally loafers - I do get a lot of compliments on this outfit! So with the cooler temps, I am able to dig into my collection of sweaters, 40s work boots, denim and chambray and of course my beloved Belstaff Trialmaster jacket - nothing goes better with this gear than a vintage chronograph and when I say vintage, I don't mean vintage looking, I mean a real-deal, mechanical chronograph watch made pre 1970s. I tend to favor stuff made during my birth decade - specifically 5 years previous to 5 years after my birth year which is 1971. During this time watch designer were doing some really cool stuff like making bigger cased watches to hold more functions, provide higher shock and water protection and ultimately just to look bad-ass. To wit, my 1978 Sicura Chronograph. Sporting an automatic Lemania caliber 1341 utilized by many marques of the era, it provides 1/5 second, minute and hour counter, up to 12 hours of continuous timing. Also on the dial at 9 is the seconds sweep, providing a running indication of the watches functioning and a nice visual reminder of the mechanical marvel toiling without complaint on your wrist - part of the appeal for me, that mechanical magic in the little package deal. For the uninitiated, an automatic movement, whether chronograph or not, utilizes a rotating weighted rotor that swings on a pivot, usually on the back of the movement. The swinging motion winds a coil spring that holds the power for the hands. The swinging motion is obviously provided by your movement, you sporting buck, you!

To really get the most out of your vintage chrono for the Fall, I highly recommend that you mount it on a rustic leather strap - either purchased or in my case, hand-made from leather from my dead Grandfather who ran a tannery in Port-au-Prince Haiti. Kind of makes my strap cooler than yours, doesn't it? I got my leather supplies in NYC - you don't need much to do this and most hobby shops have some of the tools you'll need. Google leather band making if you want some good instructions - I'll not bore you with my process that includes sage smudging a naked Koala bear to bless my leather studio (an ancient Aboriginal process I picked up during a spirit quest in the 80s). Enough words - here's some shots of my vintage Sicura chronograph on the G-Swamp (my hard-partying, cigar-smoking, little lothario of a grandfather's nickname) leather strap. FYI - the watch was purchased as-is on eBay for $275 and then brought back to life by all-around excellent man's man, musician and watchsmith, Lew Brown. Thanks Lew! Now where's that Pinot Noir...

Click on photos for larger version---->

New York's Underbelly Lives

I've long been a fan of the city, in all it's glory, and I've been exploring it by bicycle for literally 20 years (holy shit!). I must have ridden thousands of miles throughout most of the boroughs - the bronx and staten island just don't feel like part of the city I live in - and I've uncovered myriad gems in the rough and much rough thats gem-like in itself. The less sanitized parts of the city fascinate me the most because in a city where parts are worth $15 per square inch (that's $2000 per sq. ft. for those without a calculator handy), there seems to be fewer and fewer open areas of uncertain ownership. These areas generally become homeless feifdoms, attack dog training areas, shooting galleries, and art galleries as well. I like all of it. Hell, I love all of it. I love the sense of danger, the startling moment when that lump of rags moves and it's a person and when the rats literally confront you with a 'where the fuck do you think you're going?' look. Untethered dogs are by far the most dangerous aspect - you just can't reason with a dog unless you're holding a t-bone and I generally don't carry t-bones around with me, though it's not a bad idea. Today I started in a very industrial part of a borough which I will not mention because I don't want to just give it to you, budding urban spelunkers. Go out and look - these areas are not hard to find if you know the lay of the land to look for. Here's a look at my stroll through the urban art gallery I was so lucky to find this morning. PS: early morning is a good time to go, the drunks and junkies are generally passed out or just out looking for more. Do not carry anything terribly valuable with you unless you are willing to fight to keep it. Carrying ID is up to you - you're often trespassing when doing this and sometimes you will be questioned or arrested - I've never been arrested. If you have ID, you might get off the hook. If you don't, you'll probably definitely get arrested in post-9-11 New York. Another reason why these wastelands are so intriguing (the 9/11 lockdown has brought more fences and warnings). Anyway:

Texture and Perception

Sometimes I feel, as a designer, that I place an inordinate amount of importance on texture. While not dismissing the importance of texture in a number of design applications, I'm wondering just how important it is on a wine label? I think it's crazy important and is a huge indication of the perceived quality, though that's me. I wonder who else notices it? Most might notice it, but maybe just a few register an opinion on its value?

Textured paper is usually associated with fine art or vintage (estate) projects because older paper had more texture just by virtue of older paper making methodology and the ability to emboss in the final stages of paper production a pattern. Originally these textures and patterns where the natural markings of the drums over which the paper was turned or pressed, giving papers a unique imprint identifying the origin of the paper. This took on an elevated meaning when people started to associate the texture with the origin and could apply a value to the paper, ie: this came from the king's press! It must be important! This has carried over to today, even though the texture of paper is manufactured in a much more deliberate way, these days. I love old things that harken back to days of hand production and natural materials and equipment made by hand - adds a soulful appeal.

On another note, textured paper reflects light differently from un-textured paper. Usually matte finishes are used on textured paper to accentuate the absorbed light/saturated look. Colors look richer and lighting is not able to glare off the surface causing the viewer to have to adjust viewing angle to see the information on the label. I hate high gloss anything - shit, even Mac has realized how tacky high gloss is and moved their high-end laptops to the matte aluminum finish (just as the PC world starts churning out glossy colored laptops - hi, I'm a PC and I'm follower...).

Really, one need look further than the restaurant world to understand the difference - diners: plastic-coated menues in high-gloss (phony luxe) designed to be able to wipe the hoi polloi's errant ketchup from. Del Posto - offset printed ivory laid paper showing what's available today only - ooh la la. In the wine world: Monkey Bay - shiny labels that actually have gold and silver 'bling' on them: 50 cents in the bottle, 50 cents on the label - OCD Syrah - 25 cents on the label, history and a fortune in experience and care behind its deep purple, matte, textured label.