June 7th, 2010
The Week That Was 6.6.10
You would think that given the short week after the Memorial Day holiday we would have to falsify our activities from last week just to supplement enough content for our The Week That Was column. No, good Loopster. We actually had to cut off our writers. This week was jam packed. So much so, in fact, I’m not even going to waste your time with more introduction. Read below for our week filled with T-Bone Tom’s, Zelko Bistro, Liberty Station, Anvil and Free Press Summer Fest.
As I sat at T-Bone Tom’s in Kemah enjoying my Summer Pils, sweat trickling down my forehead (either from the sun or the jalapeno still resonating on my tongue), my thoughts paced back and forth over that statement. Sure, the water’s a murky brown and hits the skin like a warm bath, but the marine loving population that calls Galveston, Kemah, Seabrook, and other cities “home,” provides a unique culture that isn’t found on the Trinity River or Lake Livingston. They enjoy the course sand, waves only surfable in proximity to a storm, and the lovely silt provided to us by the mighty Mississippi. They shrimp, they fish, they open some of the best seafood restaurants not in Baltimore, Seattle or the state of Maine. They love the Gulf.
For those that love the Gulf, and more importantly for those that sustain their way of life because of what the Gulf provides, I’m wary because of this mess. The marine life itself is the biggest casualty. We of Houston have enjoyed many a plate of delicious seafood at the hands of the chefs who pride themselves on seafood fare. Have we taken that for granted? Will we not realize the environmental impact until the Reef’s of this city start suffering? If a solution isn’t found, does the oil finally make its way here? Unfortunately, as has been the case with this oil spill since the beginning, there are too many questions and not enough answers.
Taking the Edge Off (Paul)
Looking for a new place to live has to be one of the most exhausting enterprises I’ve ever undertaken. So much time and effort and gasoline are invested in the process it’s nearly impossible to see the light at the end of the tunnel. On Thursday night, after checking out four possible contenders for the future Casa de la Pauldo I made my way to Brasil to brainstorm with Tea Jones… which is an exhausting practice in a completely different, brainstormy way. Knowing that a stiff drink would take the malaise away, I made my way down to Anvil. On my own for the first 45 minutes I ended up running into a group of friends at the tail end of a double date and then some old friends from high school. Now, the last time I saw one of these friends from high school I stuck my foot so far in my mouth I’m still looking for a shoelace more than four years later. Note to those who have an inferiority complex about their four years in high school: Don’t utter, shout, bemoan the words “you don’t know me. You didn’t even talk to me. You didn’t even know my name in high school,” when you run into old peers. Most likely you’re way off base and you’re just going to make yourself even more awkward to approach than you were when you were the definition of awkward as a sixteen year old. Trust me. Then again, you may want to try it out so you can have a good laugh about it a couple months before your ten-year reunion like we did on Thursday night. Though, once again, not recommended.
Liberty Station Stories (Marc)
While there weren’t any carjackings like in the Grand Theft Auto games, several members of The Loop Scoop Crew made our way to Liberty Station to break in the new bar. The discussion around the table ranged from TEDxHouston to the plans for Summer Fest to the all important subject, reality television. While some were better versed in the subject than others, everyone had an opinion. The newly opened bar made for a great meeting place early in the night. Not overrun by the masses like some of the places closer to Shepherd, it served as a perfect place to meet for a low key, casual drink. Part ice house and part lounge, Liberty Station, has a vibe that’s comfortable and relaxing. As several of us said, it’s the type of place we would open, if we were thinking about The Loop Scoop: The Bar. If your heading down Washington towards downtown, look for Lady Liberty’s outstretched hand and the artistic neon flames of her torch, which seem to say :
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
Or, “come on in if you want a cold beer.” Check back for an in depth write up later this week.
Brunch, Lunch, or Something Better (Stephan)
Some cool things are coming to The Loop Scoop and Richard and I met with someone who is helping at Zelko Bistro for a brunch/lunch meeting. I put that slash of confusion in there because at Zelko they’ve really nailed the brunch category without getting rid of their tasty lunch options. I went with the Gas House Eggs, better known as eggs in the hole. They were served in brioche and man was it tasty. I ordered a side of sausage and if you have not tried it yet, it should be a goal. I’m so glad that Zelko is still pumping out great food and from what it seems, is consistently crowded.
Just Crazy Enough to Work (Paul)
This weekend had been booked since January. “Sorry, sis. Getting married? I can’t be there. I’ve got a Summer Fest to attend to.” With this year’s headlining acts even bigger than last year’s it was a tough ticket to turn down… even if I couldn’t necessarily find my tickets on Saturday. We made it out to Eleanor Tinsley Park just in time to catch Sideshow Tramps on Saturday and barely took time to sit on the slope as we spent most of the time running between stages to catch different acts. Sunday was a different story. There was a whole lot of standing in one place just waiting for the rain to stop. Yes, we got to Summer Fest five minutes before the heavens unleashed some of the most massive raindrops I’ve ever had the pleasure of being concussed by. With that we made our sacrifices to the music festival gods. Goodbye, towel. Goodbye, sandals. Goodbye, camera. Goodbye, Flaming Lips, I’ll remember you always. If Summer Fest comes back again next year it will all have been worth it. So, let’s make that happen. OK? Free Press Houston?
[If you have photos from Summer Fest you would like to share, send them to firstname.lastname@example.org. We will put together a photo essay tomorrow.]