Potpourri Friday

It's Friday. We're on the precipice of Labor Day weekend. I'm off again to Long Island tomorrow at 6:30 am with Fang for a weekend of barbecue, tennis, bicycling, beach lounging, produce markets, wine tasting and other leisurely behaviors. Oh, and we'll be looking at some houses. Life is good.

Anyway, to wrap up this long week, here are a few bits and pieces for your general edification:

-Urban word of the week: aibohphobia
Definition: The irrational fear of palindromes (words that read the same forwards and backwards).
Example:
Dude 1: Hey, what's your name?
Dude 2: Bob.
Dude 1: AAAAAAAAAAH! *Runs and hides behind sofa*
Bob: Wow.
Dude 1: AAAAAAAAAAH! *Runs away and falls down stairs*

-This week could not end without the acknowledgment of the passing of two very important and distinctive people in popular culture:

--Alfred Peet, the founder of Peet's Coffee, passed away this week at the age of 87. Peet's Coffee may not mean much to many people but for this former San Franciscan, Peet's Coffee was the best freaking coffee in the world. It was bold, clean, rich and vibrant. Mr. Peet's little outlets throughout the Bay Area were absolute havens and on visits home, I would always buy a pound of two to bring back to New York. On Hollaback's visits she would always bring a symbolic bag of Mr. Peet's delicious beans. Let's honor the memory of a man who kept me awake through countless conference calls, nights of three hours of sleep and root canal. That's another story.

--Hilly Kristal, the founder of the famous Bowery club CBGB's died this week at age 75. I don't even know where to start here. CBGB's was the home of the punk and modern music movement in the 1970s and featured the debut on the scene of pivotal artists: Patti Smith, Blondie, Talking Heads and the Ramones, among others. No one ever knew what the "OMFUG" really meant; in truth it was for "Other Music For Uplifting Gormandisers," particularly ironic since they never served gourmet food at CBGB's. Buy the T-shirt now for it will be on EBay soon enough. For the Ramones alone, rest in peace brother.

-Today, I told my doorman Juan that Hollaback named her beta fish in his honor. He blushed, clearly pleased. And he's coming up next week to change my lighting (that's not a euphemism, unfortunately--he really IS installing some new lighting fixtures for me).

-I also learned that one of our new editorial assistants (who was manning the reception area in the morning before the receptionist came in) used to own a martial arts studio with her ex-husband and is a black belt. We got to talking about grappling and sparring; before I know it, we discuss doing some training together on our lunch hour. I'm thrilled at the opportunity for some additional training but worry about the message it might send to my colleagues if I am spied boxing in the parking lot with an editorial assistant. God knows they think I'm flamboyant enough.

-Gray is the new color for Fall. I haven't read my issue of New York Magazine's fall fashion issue yet with the comprehension due it, but I did skim for quick market intelligence and I see gray tones, patent leather, lady like elegance are the watchwords. I'll catch up this weekend and report back dutifully. This is critical, Fashion Week is coming, people!!!

Enjoy your Labor Day weekend, the biggest oxymoron ever.