I cooked chicken thighs on the new grill I got. Maybe not showing up is the new showing up/ I don’t know. How do we miss so much when it’s right there in front of our faces? How are there no champions of these people? How are there no cul-de-sac graduation party Walt Whitmans?!!/ no country road toke-n-smoke (weed and ribs!) Thomas Hart Bentons?!! / no South Philly prison yard hibachi Bob Dylans?!!/ no riverside park family reunion Aretha Franklins?!! She leaves them wishing they could have a good time/ she finds them hoping no one knows that they feel as if they are standing in the slow-rolling search lights. Happiness, so natural for so many, she plays tricks on others. No one to bottle the gravitas beneath their paper thin smiles. There are no underground champions of the torn-in-two summer invitee. The goddamn garden is rich with fat fruit for the artist who wants to paint The Potato Salad Eaters, that majestic breathtaking masterpiece depicting the subtle nuances of strange undercurrent ripping through summertime gatherings across the land. Poets, or what’s left of them anyways (poor bastards), they ignore the specifics of the suffering and the exhausted/ the talked-out Dad with his dad bod jiggling around in his Walmart Purple Rain T-shirt/ the seen-it-all-been-there-done-that mom of tweens whose smile is mortally wounded Gettysburg artilleryman meets broken-hearted 1966 drunk American prom queen. There are no talked-about indie films or hot new limited series streaming on Netflix or HBO that feature the loneliness of the long distance IPA drinker. Maybe Whip It by Devo but the jury is still out on that one, I guess. There are no songs about it as far as I can tell. There are no monuments out there for the uneasy picnicker. They understand that a simple gathering in someones yard will be easy for some people and not for others.Īnd for the ones it is not so easy for, there is basically fuck all to be done about it. People who have been around the mental block a few times know this. Not everything that doesn’t involve work or whatever is a picnic in the park. It’s all supposed to be ultra-relaxing for adults but I think maybe that’s not always the case. Bbq smoke and distant music from a tinny speaker and the sound of children laughing or crying or both at once. People forcing conversation half the time/ talking through liquored-up lips the other half. At least when it comes to the bones of the situation, you know? Like, they know what these things consist of. Besides, there is an element of their consciousness that actually does know what they’re missing. Obviously they don’t know what they’re missing because they are not here, dumbass. In the end, I looked out over the yard and smiled.įuck it, I thought to myself. Others, I think, are beholden to strange forces that may or may not be directly (or indirectly) linked to mental health stuff. There’s likely a variety of reason for this, many stemming from mental health issues, especially anxiety. A few said they were coming but never showed up. Some people came and other people did not. We rented a big inflatable waterslide that costs an arm and a leg and we invited some neighbors, some of Arle’s family, some parents/ some youth. A complete meal is packed on with the proper white bread, dill chips, chopped raw onions and fixings ($3, small $6, large) of blue cheese and bacon potato salad, cabbage and jicama slaw and heirloom baked beans.We had a little shindig this past Sunday. (Sorry burnt ends fans, no charred tips here, just "moist" and "lean.") Pork fans can get their grub on pulled pork ($5, 1/4 pound $9, 1/2 pound) and pork ribs ($12, half rack $24, full rack), while poultry lovers can sink their teeth into brined and smoked chicken (Mary's organic, no less). As any good Texan would know, brisket ($6, 1/4 pound $12, 1/2 pound) is the star here-dry rubbed and smoked for 15 hours over oak wood. With no more than a queue-and-order window and alfresco communal picnic tables, Horse Thief BBQ serves the local lunchtime crowd and hungry groups everyday from 11am to 6pm (and later on weekends), or until sold out. Native Texans Wade McElroy and Russell Malixi met at school in Austin, and have brought their self-taught 'cue chops (and a trip of hickory smokers and elevated ingredients) to DTLA's historic Grand Central Market. At Horse Thief BBQ, Angelenos get schooled on the ways of low-and-slow cooking, namely central Texas-style BBQ.
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