Friday, February 20, 2015



  1. I need to open a good-old fashioned, old school pool room. For people like me who love to shoot a good game, but are best-advised to stay away from bars for... personal reasons.

    Plenty of available commercial space in my neighborhood for such a venture. Kensington Ave, or even better, on the ground floor of one of the many abandoned-but-still-beautiful-and-solid old mills and warehouses.

    Something straight out of Don Carpenter's Hard Rain Falling, preferably one where you have to walk down half a flight of stairs from the street to get to.

    I firmly believe that pool rooms and an American noir revival are two things the people need more of right now.

    I need to head over to Port Richmond Books in the next week or two and see if I can dig up some David Goodis novels.

    Now if only it would stop snowing, and if the fucking temperatures could just finally rise a little bit above freezing for the first time in like three weeks...

    1. Heck, I would take anything in the POSITIVE double digits!

    2. I'd bet Mike could lend us both a couple dozen degrees or so, and still have plenty of warmth to spare. Heh.

      18 whole degrees here right now, with a wind chill around 4.

      Should be getting up near 50 here on Sunday, which is actually close to what it should be in Philadelphia in late February. Instead, this is the first time it'll be above freezing in ten days.

      Then it's right back into this polar bear crap, with 'highs' in the teens again on Monday.

      I just want to be able to go outside in less than two tee-shirts, a sweater, a hoodie and a jacket. Five layers I had on today! That's just not right.

    3. Jay, I bet you've seen The Hustler (1961).

      That's a grim film.

      They break Paul Newman's thumbs at one point.

      Very noir. Very grey.

      George C. Scott as the bank and Jackie Gleason as "Minnesota Fats."

      It's the perfect flick before killing yourself.