At Golden Dawn

Kris djing in style in a typically flamboyant shirt at Golden Dawn, Auckland. One of the two occasions he dj-ed there during our trip. The second time also featured a tag-team cameo of Alex and I, recapturing the records in the summertime feeling of living together at Rocky's. Good times all-round.

At Kutens Bensin






































At Kutens Bensin, Fårö. Or as it's also known 'Creperi Tati'. It lay on the other side of what was possibly the largest sloping road on Fårö, and I inwardly cursed it's location as I peddled furiously up what became known as my nemesis hill; I filled with dread and defiance every time it loomed ahead of me, but the promise of relaxation, crepes, and a jukebox asking to be played was enough incentive. (let it be known I conquered this hill every time.)

We went there twice, first for dessert, and the next day for dinner.
The exterior is all overgrown weeds, rusted cars (one was meant to be the car Bonnie and Clyde were shot to death in, I never found it), and miscellaneous signs, watched over by an american flag atop an impossibly tall flag pole. The interior was a hodge-podge of Americana and Swedish nostalgia, wooden beams, formica tables, mismatched chairs; the kind of place where every inch of wall space seems to be covered by a photo, catchy slogan or retro knick-knack, and everything felt worn and lived in, in that comfortable, nostalgic way.

Sitting inside on the first evening, I had a classic chocolate crepe, while Kris ordered a 'Summer evening smile', I believe it was called, with saffron ice cream and dewberry jam. We drank cold Coke out of glass bottles (coke does taste better in glass bottles, you know), read old Swedish magazines and spent two hours taking turns playing the jukebox.


On our return trip with had dinner outside amongst the blue painted garden furniture and rusted refrigerators. The dinner galettes were all named after actors and musicians of the 50's and 60's - the Marilyn's, the Jimmy Deans, the Presleys and so forth. My Galette was called the 'Hopper', after Denis, naturally, and was brimming with chorizo, parma ham, potato, cherry tomatoes and cheese, and accompanied by a crisp, dry apple cider. I read a Goldfinger paperback I discovered earlier in the day at a small book stall set up in a shed next door to the supermarket and the fish smokery.

Bicycle ideal

































I am scouting about for a new bicycle. At present the Pilen Lyx is the clear leader, preferably in forest green with a brown Brooks saddle, because one can choose things like that. This is most likely my equivalent of buying your first car.

Song Choice

On Saturday my friends in New Zealand banded together to celebrate one of my best friend's birthdays in true karaoke style. It pained me not to be there to join in the hours of drunken fun, but at least gave me a moment to ruminate of what I would have sung had I wished to assault them with my strained vocal chords.
It is quite hard choosing a truly worthy karaoke song: you want a song everyone knows, so that they can join in on the chorus or take over if you are truly mutilating the said song. You would not want a song to be too long, with a drawn out guitar solo, as no one goes to karaoke to hear someone sing an instrumental. Preferably the song should have a poignant or meaningful memory associated with it and others present, possibly you have drunkenly listened to at a previous time. I have discovered that the most enjoyed karaoke songs are ones people don't take seriously - its is most likely they have been played on solid gold - perhaps even over the christmas period.

And, if you are someone such as myself, the song should be relatively easy to sing. Therefore, as my now preferred karaoke song of choice, taking all of the aforementioned points into consideration, I can only conclude that next time I am in a karaoke room I shall break into a slaughtered rendition of

Rod Stewart's Maggie May

Rocky's Livs





Mooning around Malmö - autunmal excursions with Alex during her brief 4 day visit over the weekend (the same weekend MFF win the Allsvenskan football league and some city-wide hooning commences) saw us getting up to the usual sort of mischief. Bike rides out to the piers at Ribersborg, sea swans, larking about in the leaves at Pildammsparken, trawling through second hand shops full of tie-dyed t-shirts and scores of Letraset. Galleries and gallery openings, record shopping with novelty 7"s. Stumbling across hilarious shops names and the Malmö branch of Rocky's Superette. Homemade pizza and the best falafel in Malmö.
Who needs to see the sights of Malmö when you can view them in miniature form at the Malmö-themed mini golf in Folkets Park?

Royal Draughtsmen


Draughts was always my favourite board game, because I could beat my father at it. When one of our pieces successfully outmanoeuvred the opposition to be "kinged", we always announced 'King-Thing!' in a sing-song voice.
I like to imagine these young men are having a quick game of draughts at the beach, rather than a long, drawn out chess ordeal. Chess has no place at the beach. Draughts however, would be a good way to pass half an hour or so between having your bbq lunch with a draught of cold drink and having your second swim.

(However being from Arizona this is probably in some desert landscape.)
photo from Cline Library archives @ Northern Arizona University
via

BERLINGERING











five days in Berlin, wandering around, catching trains and trams, eating cheap pizza and drinking cheap beer.
i want to make my photographs into a set of postcards, or an accordion book, somehow a digital memory of it doesn't quite seem adequate.

BELLE epoque suite


Louise Drombrowski doing the Hook Rug Dance

My contribution to last night's dj effort between Kris and myself at BELLE epoque - one of the restaurant/bar fixtures directly beneath our apartment, 11 August 2010.

He's The Great Imposter - The Fleetwoods
He's In Town - The Rockin' Berries
She Comes Running - Lee Hazlewood
Do I Love You - The Ronnettes
The Love I Saw in You Was Just a Mirage - Smokey Robinson & The Miracles
You Only Live Twice - Nancy Sinatra
La Nuit N'En Finit Plus (Needles and Pins) - Le Lionceaux
Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa (Sad Song) - Otis Redding
She's a Mystery to Me - Roy Orbison
Lady of the Lake - Peggy Lipton
Perdita - Rubber City
Here Comes the Night - The Walker Brothers
Here Comes the Night - Them
Hook Rug Dance - Angelo Badalamenti
Strange Love - Darlene Love
Tryin' To Get To You - Elvis Presley
Doodlin' - Dusty Springfield
I Call Your Name - The Beatles
He's The Only Guy I'll Ever Love - Maxine Brown
I'll Call You Mine - The Zombies
Blow-Up (Main Title) - Herbie Hancock
Say I Am - Tommy James & The Shondells
Sukiyaki - Kyu Sakamoto
Little Town Flirt - Del Shannon
It's All In The Way (You Look At It Baby) - Mousie & The Traps
La Chanson De Jacky - Jacques Brel
Mary, Mary - Paul Butterfield Blues Band
Quand un amour renaît - Sylvie Vartan

the other half - Kris' playlist here


and David Hemmings about to teach Vanessa Redgrave how to dance to Herbie Hancock.

Cider Royalty




Sold in benefit of the Crown Princess Couple's Wedding Foundation whose purpose is to counteract alienation and promote good health amongst children and youths in Sweden.
- cider mission statement on label.

The official apple cider of the Swedish Royal Wedding, (there is a pear version as well), we luckily stumbled upon the last bottle at the supermarket and celebrated with an unoffical toast to the newlyweds. Skål!

If (according to Frank), Heineken is the "King of Beers", this surely, is the Crown Princess of non-alcoholic ciders.

Nice rendering, Dave



Last night I went dancing at a small bar down a spiral staircase, with brick walls and no windows or ventilation to speak of. The music was riotous 60's garage rock, and I danced wildly for the first time in a good while, and drank about the same quantity of beer that my body was profusely sweating. On a large whitewashed brick wall, 2001: A Space Odyssey was silently projected.
It was rather disconcerting looking up and seeing HAL leering over you while dancing so energetically, surrounded by other sweaty humans, in a tiny basement. It always felt like he was judging me.

Buns and Beers


Annually in Sweden, novelty Easter beers are stocked on shelves for a limited time. I have noticed most have the look of a home brew, and with some of the labels I have seen I can hardly take Easter Beer seriously. You would be fooled into thinking the one featured above is not of the respectable brewery that Kris assures me it belongs to.

I might have to down some more of this as I commiserate the fact that Sweden knows not the greatness of the Hot Cross Bun. I would look forward to Hot Cross Buns every Easter as much as my chocolate bunny and my egg with the chocolate money (I am very dejected they no longer sell this one, the pirate looked like a real scoundrel). Besides, those new eggs with their flakes and crunchies and what-not are not in the true egg spirit, not like the eggs of my childhood where the treats, be it chocolate money, jet planes, chocolate buttons, jelly beans, pineapple lumps and more, were actually inside the egg. Hot Cross Buns now enter the New Zealand supermarkets before the end of February, far too early in my opinion, and I ranted to my mother who offered to buy some and put them in the freezer for me until I deemed it an appropriate time to eat them. I declined. Well, I am kicking myself now that I am in a land where they do not even exist! Not even as dough.

Hot Cross Buns are not only cherished for their delicious taste but also for medicinal value, preservative qualities, and shipwreck prevention. Buns baked and served on Good Friday will not spoil or become mouldy during the subsequent year.
Another encourages keeping such a bun for medicinal purposes. A piece of it given to someone who is ill is said to help them recover.
Sharing a hot cross bun with another is supposed to ensure friendship throughout the coming year, particularly if "Half for you and half for me, Between us two shall goodwill be" is said at the time. Because of the cross on the buns, some say they should be kissed before being eaten.
If taken on a sea voyage, hot cross buns are said to protect against shipwreck.
If hung in the kitchen, they are said to protect against fires and ensure that all breads turn out perfectly. The hanging bun is replaced each year.

Its a dangerous and lonely world without hot cross buns.
Hoppy Easter!