Mike and Matt came to hang out with me this past weekend, and since they had last come to see their Uncle Bill in the final weekend of January, it ended up being the shortest possible period between our bimonthly visits. We probably did more activities than on any visit since the first one and had lots of arts-related fun. We experienced no stopped-up toilets. Woot! And we even did a dog-related mitzvah with my friends Missy and Nate before we went to The Jewish Museum.
On Friday evening, after Tracey left to pick up David at his new job in the city so they could go out to dinner, the Monkey Boys and I had a terrific meal of our own, at Home. Lou and I ate there—good lord!—a year ago October. On that visit, Lou and I both got the macaroni and cheese. And on this visit, the guys split the larger-sized pan of M&C, with none of the optional add-ins: bacon, cherry tomatoes, or chorizo. They made a pretty good dent in it, but I was able to snag some too.
Like I needed it. I started out with the Mountain Dell Farm Mixed Green Salad, which came with sunflower seeds, shaved fennel, and mustard thyme vinaigrette. I offered some to the guys—who hadn't wanted an appetizer—but they were content with the very good, no-doubt-housemade bread until the M&C arrived. For my entree, I got the Molasses Double-Cut Pork Chop, with onion rings, Brussels sprouts, and bacon. The guys couldn't resist trying an onion ring. It was all so delicous and filling, but the boys agreed that we would order both the chocolate and butterscotch puddings for dessert, like Lou and I had done. M&M enjoyed the puddings, but I'm sure I ate the most of both flavors, which were as sensational as always.
Next, we took the very short walk around the corner to 6th Avenue from Cornelia Street, to the IFC Center. I had gotten us tickets for a showing of the Oscar-nominated animated short films. Actually, it was the five nominated films plus two "highly commended" ones, or something like that; I can't recall for sure what the wording was onscreen. M&M and I didn't really care for either of those two addded-on films: Urs was an ultimately dreary German-produced film, and The Cow Who Wanted to Be a Hamburger wasn't particularly clever.
We had all previously seen and enjoyed Day & Night, which was the short film that preceded Toy Story 3 when it was shown in theaters. We all liked Madagascar, Carnet de Voyage a good deal, with its ever-shifting styles of animation and slice-of-life peek into a country we'll most likely never visit. (Unless Matt decides to become a zoologist studying lemurs instead of his current plan, which is to be a veterinarian.) Let's Pollute was OK but might have been more successful if its important message had been more imaginatively and/or subtly presented.
The guys' favorite was The Gruffalo, based on the children's story and made for BBC One. I loved it too. Who wouldn't enjoy a beautifully animated story about a monster and a mouse?
The Lost Thing won the Oscar, and I can see why it did. It was poignant, somewhat sad yet somewhat funny, and could appeal to both young and old. It had a message that was clear but not sledgehammered home. I'd say it was my favorite, with The Gruffalo not far behind.
On Saturday, after breakfast at Mojo, one of our usual spots, we headed to Union Square to take the 4 or 5 to 86th Street and then walked over to The Jewish Museum. Missy and Nate were free that day, so we'd made plans to catch the Houdini: Art and Magic exhibit with them.
We sat down on a bench outside the museum to wait for M&N; Missy had texted to say they might be a little late, depending on how the trains were running. M&M and I watched as an older guy passed by with a small black poodle whose leash he was holding onto. Another, nearly identical small black poodle was walking a few steps behind the guy, untethered to him and trailing its leash. We thought that was a little odd, and as the guy kept walking up 92nd Street away from the park, it seemed stranger and stranger. Especially because the second dog hadn't moved very far—it had gotten distracted by a guy in a wheelchair who caught the dog's attention—and was now much separated from the man.
At this point, Missy and Nate arrived, and we quickly explained what was going on and I introduced M&M and M&N to each other. The boys had been urging me to act and take the dog to this guy, who just had to be his owner, but for whatever reason, I had been reluctant to do so. But with M&N saying the same thing, I snapped out of my passivity, said hello to the pooch, took up its leash, and rapidly walked up the street, with the 3 Ms and N right behind me.
When we got to Madison Avenue, we looked north and south, with no sign of him. Then we heard someone yelling something I couldn't make out, but it turned out to be, thankfully, the guy yelling the dog's name. He had crossed over Madison and, with the green light, was walking toward us as I walked into the street to reunite him with his dog. He thanked me profusely and squeezed my arm with relief and gratitude.
Having done our good deed, we went back to the museum, where we had a great time learning about the amazing life of Harry Houdini. And as the name of the exhibition implied, Art and Magic was as much about representations of Houdini in various art and pop culture forms as it was about the man himself. There were paintings—including Joe Coleman's The Man Who Walked Through Walls—sculptures, and many movie clips to look at/watch.* And an installation in a room with a locked, transparent door that purported to use live pigeons and a small coffin to convey the fleeting nature of celebrity.
After we'd seen all we wanted to see at the museum, we walked over to a block where Missy knew there was a cluster of Thai retaurants. I wanted to go to Tiny Thai because the name was so cute. We all enjoyed our meals. I got the Mussaman Curry Chicken, which featured sweet potatoes and peanuts in a coconut curry sauce. The boys shared a grilled chicken that came with a spicy plumb sauce. And the three of us had some Green Papaya Salad.
On the way to the restaurant, we couldn't resist going into Eleni's and picking out some cookies to eat later.
We all took the train back to Union Square, where I bought some honey for the Gerbers for Purim at the Greenmarket. Underground, we had seen and heard the Xylopholks, which, of course, consisted of a xylophone player dressed as a skunk and a guy in a chicken outfit playing the upright bass:
We parted ways with M&N and went home so I could walk my woofers. The guys said they were in the mood for comfort food, so for dinner that evening, we got burgers at Elephant & Castle. Tony met up with us there for a glass of wine. And then we hopped over to Popbar for dessert. Mike and I both got mint gelato pops dipped in dark chocolate, and Matt got a strawberry sorbet one with dark chocolate.
After that, the four of us went to the Skirball Center to see Circa, an Australian acrobat/dance troupe. Later, Tony and I both said that we were a little nervous at the very beginning that Circa was going to be a bust. It started with a guy flinging himself onto the large-in-area-but-relatively-thin blue rubber mat that served as the group's performance space onstage, in time to music. We weren't sure where the show was going or what it was supposed to mean. But our fears were unfounded because it eventually became clear that the show was going to be a nonstop series of mostly fascinating vignettes with the troupe's seven members doing some pretty amazing things with their bodies in groups or duos or solo. Tony guessed correctly after the show that my favorite performer was a large, bushy-bearded, ponytailed guy who often served as a support for the other acrobats. At the end of a spirited number set to the Cake version of this catchy song, all of the other six Circa-ers were hanging directly or indirectly off him, with only his feet on the ground.
The next morning, M&M and I had the same 
breakfast at Le Pain Quotidien we had during their last visit and then we settled in for some rainy-day Wii gaming and waited for Tracey and David to arrive.
After my sis and brother-in-law got to the Village, Tony joined us for brunch at Westville; M&M had wanted their Mommy to try that place because the three of us had had such a great dinner there on the 'Phews Second New York Visit. The food was good again, and Tracey agreed that the big homemade Oreos were something else.
One thing I'm looking forward to doing with M&M and the Tonester later this year, though the timing is still uncertain, is exploring the second section of the High Line. As of now, Friends of the High Line is saying only that that section will open sometime this spring.
And now, as the usual end of this kind of post, here's a selection of photos that couldn't all fit within the text.
First up is M&M with their M&C at Home:
The guys posing with Harry Houdini and his milk can at the museum:
Matt acting like his jacket is a straitjacket in the museum's lobby:
The whole gang at Tiny Thai:
And cookies from Eleni's. If there had been a black poodle available I would have gotten one, but there wasn't, so I got the cute pink one. Matt chose the monkey, and Mike, the Statue of Liberty:
*Late Sunday afternoon, I went to the Game Party, where only Scrabble-genius host Mark, Bill G., and I were in attendance. (Maybe the heavy rain that day kept all of the other word-loving queens at home.) Anyway, the low turnout made it easy for me to rattle on at length about my weekend with M&M. When I mentioned the Houdini exhibit and its movie clips that showed either Houdini himself in silent films or representations of him, Bill asked about the Paul Michael Glaser TV movie. There was indeed a clip of it, I told him. And it was funny because like everything else on TV in the boob-obsessed '70s, this clip had some tit-related titillation in it. In a scene that I'm willing to bet my bank account never actually went down that way in real life, Houdini visits a spiritualist who claims to be able to communicate with the dead. She's wearing only a robe and agrees to show Houdini she's hiding nothing in it. We next see her from behind, flashing her goods at the magician. "Well, I'll say this," Houdini says. "If you can't raise the dead, nobody can." PMG made me raise a tent in my pants in this scene in which Houdini escapes from a Scotland Yard jail cell while naked. And speaking of tent pitching, here's a link to the sexiest photo I've seen of Houdini. Click on the photo all the way to the right in the strip of thumb nails.
