“Agua Caliente Nova,” by Robert Bechtle (1975)  Oil on canvas

Pass the peas like they used to say.

Nicole Franzen gives us buttery peas with garlic scapes.

Two years ago, a friend of mine…

And since kindergarten I acquired the knowledge/and after 12th grade I went straight to college…

[Drawing by Marc Johns]

Father’s Day is fast-approaching. Scanning the shelves for the latest baseball books, here are some thoughts:

“Damn Yankees.” ‘Nuff said.

“Wherever I Wind Up,” R.A. Dickey’s memoir, written with Wayne Coffey.

Man, the University of Nebraska Press has a bunch of good baseball titles including:

and

Also, check out Paul Dickson’s formidable-looking biography of Bill Veeck: “Bill Veeck: Baseball’s Greatest Maverick.”

There’s Marty Apel’s history of the Yankees:

“Pinstripe Empire”

…and a reissue of Bill Madden and Moss Klein’s “Damned Yankees” (which is not to be confused with Fleder’s book).

Also, Rob Miech has a book about the rookie stud Bryce Harper: “The Last Natural.” 

Yeah, the kid can play.

Wrong movie, I know—still, check out this letter by Gene Wilder over at Letters of Note.

This is dated but what the hell. Serious Eats gives us the best Ramen in NYC.

Ah, I linked to this cause I’s hungry and I wanted an excuse to post this picture from A Spoon Full of Sugar.

Twofer times two from back when.

[Photo Credit: You Gotta Put Me On]

“Cantata #13,” By Robert Motherwell (1960)

“Zit! Throom! Krrakkk!” by Sharon Moody.

House to Haus gives Cherry and Port Compote.

Monday Morning Jam…

[Photo Via: This Isn’t Happiness]

“Jet Set” Mike Vickers from “Brass Plus Moog” KPM Library

[Art: “Mixed Signals” by Garrett Pruter via NYC Art Scene]

Serious Eats offers us the ultimate 15 Pizzeria Itinerary. Mmm Mmm Good.

[Photo Via: Citrus-Kids]

Cream of the Crop.

[Photo Credit: Where Are You Goinggg]

Over at Unlikely Words check out a link to Scott Raab’s latest Q&A with his old pal Bill Murray:

SR: Your Second City teacher/mentor Del Close is a guy I’ve never read enough about. What was it that made him so influential?

BM: Well, he was a guy who had great knowledge of the craft of improvisation. And he lived life in a very rich manner, to excess sometimes. He had a whole lot of brain stuck inside of his skull. Beyond being gifted, he really engaged in life. He earned a lot. He made more of himself than he was given. Came out of Manhattan, Kansas, and ended up hanging out with the Beats. He was incredibly gracious to your talent and always tried to further it. He got people to perform beyond their expectations. He really believed that anyone could do it if they were present and showed respect. There was a whole lot of respect.

SR: Sounds like a great teacher.

BM: He taught lots and lots of people very effectively. He taught people to commit. Like: “Don’t walk out there with one hand in your pocket unless there’s somethin’ in there you’re going to bring out.” You gotta commit. You’ve gotta go out there and improvise and you’ve gotta be completely unafraid to die. You’ve got to be able to take a chance to die. And you have to die lots. You have to die all the time. You’re goin’ out there with just a whisper of an idea. The fear will make you clench up. That’s the fear of dying. When you start and the first few lines don’t grab and people are going like, “What’s this? I’m not laughing and I’m not interested,” then you just put your arms out like this and open way up and that allows your stuff to go out. Otherwise it’s just stuck inside you.

…SR: Did you and Bruce Willis get along on the set of Moonrise Kingdom?

BM: I got along great with Bruce Willis. He’s different, though. He’s rolled as a movie star for a long time, so it’s a little different for him coming into Wes Anderson’s world, where no one gets movie-star treatment. Life really does change when you go on one of Wes’s films — you gotta sit back and relax. But Bruce absolutely delivered. He was really game. It was like, Let’s play. Sometimes you get people that don’t want to play — they just want to perform, to act. He’s a movie star, I’ve been a movie star — we don’t have to take this so seriously. So we’d play. We’d goof up a take just for the fuck of it. He delivers one of the biggest laughs of any movie I’ve ever been in. And it really took a movie star to do it. The casting of Bruce was perfect. This movie is really funny. This movie’s gonna be big. Big.

Then stick around for a mess-o-links to other stuff about Murray.

[Photo Via: Monster Fresh; thanks to Kottke for the links]

Smitten Kitchen does strawberry rhubarb pie. Yes, please.

I know a place…Ain’t nobody worried…

[Photo Credit: Breathe]

“Girl Reading,” By Lucian Freud (1952)