Sunday, May 14, 2006

Rainy Days And Mother's Day Always Get Me...



...Wet...But, Well Fed...



Last Mother's Day, I took my mother out for Dim Sum.

This year, I did it again. However, I also was able to take her to the matinee of Blue Man Group - which worked out well because that was what she had actually asked for.



It has been a tradition for the last few years that, every Mother's Day, Mom and I plan a big day of walking around Boston. Consequently, it's been rainy and shitty in Boston for the last three Mother's Days. This year was the worst. The National Weather Service has reported that my neck of the woods has received 7.1 inches of rain so far this May - and it's supposed to keep raining around here until Tuesday. If I actually believed in God, I'd say he was smiting us for something. But, I looked all over Chinatown while I was there and there was nary an adult bookstore or porn shop to be seen. Even the transvestite dance club on the corner had been replaced with a family friendly shabu-shabu oufit.

It's like it's the end of an era or something. I would've tried to explain this to mom, but I don't think she'd have cared...besides, it's her day anyway.


So, we started with Dim Sum at Chau Chau City. It's a bustling three story affair with tanks of live seafood in the back. Upfront, the restaurant boasts a display of "the third largest shark fin in the world".









I really enjoy eating here. The neon decorating the walls gave the place a real Big Trouble in Little China vibe.


The idea of eating somewhere in which at any moment I could be attacked by the incorporeal form of David Lo Pan also added a tantalizing air of danger that distracted me from the gray dreck outside my window.






The food was excellent too. Mom and I are both seafood nuts. We got the baby clams in a spicy black bean sauce, mussels in a sauce with scallions and a neat sort of "shrimp drumstick" which was ground shrimp formed in a ball around a crab claw - so when you nibbled your way through to the center you were rewarded with a sweet chunk of perfectly cooked crab. We also got braised spare ribs with peppers and ginger, spring rolls, "Lion's Head" (pork and minced vegetable meatballs) and shrimp "crystal" dumplings. Mom and I found ourselves stuffed in short order and the food coma descended forthwith.

To shake off the desire to crawl under the table and nap with our bellies full of Dim Sum-y goodness, we ventured back out onto the street. Our timing in getting to the restaurant had been stellar, because we had to wade through a crowd of people on the sidewalk waiting to get in as we left. The rain maintained a holding pattern of drizzle - not enough precipitation to make us bust out an umbrella, but enough to make me wish I'd brought a baseball hat to keep the rain off my glasses.

In about five minutes, we hit the theater district.

There's all kinds of venues here.









There's relics from well before I was a twinkle in anyone's eye.





Most importantly there's dives to get drunk in after you've had your annual dose of culture.

Mom didn't want to stop and have a drink here. I have no idea why.


We finally got to the Charles Playhouse. It had begun to pour. Ironically, when we were seated we discovered that we were in a portion of the theater that had been designated the "poncho section". Apparently, the show is quite interactive with the audience and you can find yourself splattered with mystery liquids or pieces of Twinkie. I contemplated smuggling the poncho out with me. That was before I noticed remnants of chunky mystery substance that were still clinging to the poncho from a previous show.

The show was great fun. The Blue Men engaged in hard core percussion, sometimes with actual drums but more often with instruments made of PVC pipe. The Blue Men gifted Mom with a bowl of Cap'n Crunch and some flashlights. I was only once caught unawares by an ejaculation of mystery, Twinkie related liquid. By the end of it, we were all caught up in a giant ball of crepe paper under pulsing strobe lights and black lights. I saw tracers off of everything I looked at. All the joy of taking Ecstasy and none of the annoying desire to hug other people. That was good. We watched a guy get coated in blue paint and slammed against a blank canvas in the name of "art". That was even better. And Mom really had a good time. That was best.

Much fun was had by, well, most. At least me and Mom and that was the important thing.

And the rain kept the homeless panhandlers away on the trip back to the subway. That didn't suck either.

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2 comments:

Helga von porno said...

Boston is being punished for usury, Jesus loves whores, prostitutes and porn models, and every suicide bomber knows there is a special place in heaven for sex workers. But who wants to be rewarded by spending eternal life with a bunch of degenerate bank managers, mortgage advisors, insurance brokers, hedge fund managers and any other filthy money lending scum? It clearly says in the bible that Jesus hated those guys and suggest we take up our sword against them and drive them out of the temple. Its going to carry on raining in Boston until the one honest sex worker who doesn't have a bank account builds a big boat and fills it with breeding pairs of musicians, hobos, petty thiefs and anyone else who never got a bank account, and float right out of there while the whole city of userers drowns.
So enjoy it while you can. And love to your mum, the chinese feast sounded great.

Dave Morris said...

Blue Man Group remains the best concert I've ever seen. Totally surprised and I'm dyin' to see them again.