Okay. Good Friday morning to all. Let us begin with the usual and work our way into the unusual.

This week’s article for the City Wire is up. You can read it here. My editor sent me a note (email) confirming that, after hours of research, he had found no institution or society that had created a standard for judging fried okra. I told him that I’d go in halfsies with him to found one. You can get in on it, too, if you want.

Next, I would like to wish my Nanny and Papa a Happy Anniversary. This makes number sixty something. You should wish them a happy one, too.

And now onto the usually unusual. Today, I have a job shadow. Not right this second, but as of 10am I will. Jeez, it’s not even 7am. You really think that I want some kid following me around before I’ve had coffee? I plan on making this kid’s life Hell for a few hours, but I don’t want to really mess them up.

“Hey kid, wanna see something really scary?”

“Um, no.”

“Behold! The pre-coffee Sandwich Control!”

(weakly, whimpering, and cowering) “Please God, no! What have I done to deserve such torment? Pluck out my eyes, so that the pain may stop!”

It’s really not that bad. Anyway, my shadow and I can expect a glazathon today and probably some lugging heavy stuff. I’m sure Le Duke has something wonderful planned for us. Luckily the bricklayer called, probably for fear that we would screw it up, and told us that his crew would move the brick so we don’t have to. I was strangely looking forward to it. Perhaps it was the appeal of mindless, zen-like, hard work. Sort of a break from the noise that is my brain right now. I have something that I have to remember to do everyday for the next week and a half. Bollocks to that.

Yesterday, I went on a sort of Anthony Bourdain bender. I listened to a good chunk of Chef’s Tour during the working hours, came home and watched episode one of season one of No Reservations, and finished my day off by reading a couple of chapters of The Nasty Bits. By the time I went to bed, all I wanted was a rum and coke and a cigarette. Not to mention that I could have stabbed any one of you, my devoted readers, in the face for a Jambon-Beurre sandwich. Mmm… ham and butter on a baguette. Maybe I’ll call Panera Bread Company and see if they can make me one. That’ll be a nice treat for me. I could set up a little table and chair in the front yard and drink coffee and eat a ham and butter sandwich while smoking and writing a manifesto. There goes an entire day. Sorry, can’t spare the time right now. Maybe after Le Duke and La Duchess are gone to France to do the real thing, then I can do the pretend thing.

All this talk about France and food is a sad reminder that I will get neither until I do a bunch of work. And with that I off to start working for the weekend. More soon. ~SC

*UPDATE* The City Wire just released an article on Le Duke. You can read it here.