Essays, Interviews, Observations, Pop Culture, Stories, and other Dodginess

She Broke My Heart, So I Talked To Her Pizza

Posted on June 28, 2014

Mia. A beautiful, smart, Serbian girl I dated in the spring. I didn’t want to, I didn’t plan it, but I fell for her. And naturally, she broke my heart. What sucks is that Mia was planning on making me a pizza. We’d gone out to Gino’s in Chicago and afterwards she said she make me her pizza. I’ve rarely looked forward to anything more. She was going to make me something. Food. I kept referring it to “Mia’s Pizza.” I couldn’t wait to have Mia’s Pizza. Now I don’t think I’ll ever get to try it.

So I interviewed her pizza. Well, it’s more of a chat really. And here it is. This is based on the actual one I emailed her earlier this month. There are a few slight changes. Ana – I would do anything, say anything, tell you anything, if I could see her again. (Note – this is not the same Serbian girl depicted in my essay about my junior high experience The Serbian Girl with Green Socks).

Mia’s Pizza

Mia’s Pizza: Will I ever be made for you?

Liffey: I hope so. I have a feeling you’d be delicious!

Mia’s Pizza: What do you like about Mia?

Liffey: She’s smart, mature, and funny. She’s beautiful inside and out. She has good taste, sexy long legs and an amazing doupa. It’s fun to introduce her to new things in the city. I liked how she called Wrigley Field a football field. I liked how she’d say “I missed you” after picking her up.

Mia’s Pizza: How do you think she feels about you?

Liffey: I don’t know. It can’t be good if I haven’t heard from her. But I’d like to think she misses me a little bit. I thought we got along great. I thought we were a good team.

Mia’s Pizza: The two of you talked about taking a trip?

Liffey: Yes. Maybe a two-day trip to Miami, New Orleans, or Mt. Rushmore. Wherever. I’d love to do that this summer.

Mia’s Pizza: Other thoughts?

Liffey: I just want to pick up where we left off. I’d like to do something like we’ve done or whatever Mia wants to do.

Mia’s Pizza: I hope she makes me for you.

Liffey: So do I! We’d eat a good meal and drink a good drink.

Mia’s Pizza: What should I tell her? Any updates since you spoke last?

Liffey: I replaced the windshield on my Jeep. I don’t know if she remembered it had a crack going down the middle from the winter. I’ve also been practicing my Serbian. I’m an Irish idiot, she’s a Serbian princess. My mantra has been: I will do anything, say anything, tell her anything if I could see her again.

Mia’s Pizza: I hope you get to see her again. And one last thing.

Liffey: What’s that?

Mia’s Pizza: Your name is stupid.

Note: Essay originally posted in June. 

 

Talking “Treme” with Davis Rogan

Posted on June 15, 2014

“To be a fly on the wall for that fucking thing”

If you’re going to interview Davis Rogan at a small  table outside Three Muses on Frenchmen Street between his sets expect interruptions.

There was one guy, who I’m not really sure what he wanted. I think it was money. But Rogan explained to him what he was earning for his gig and the man was off. A few fans walked by with a “great job” (to Rogan, not me) or “love you/love your music.”  Another passerby asked Rogan where Adolfo’s was (above the Apple Barrel, also featured in Treme).  “Alex Chilton and I used to eat at Adolfo’s often,” Rogan says.

Then legendary cornetist Jack Fine walks by. Rogan asks him to sit in on his next set. And he did.

Davis-Rogan-interview-pic

Davis Rogan at Three Muses (May 30) photo by Liffey

One of the lead characters on HBO’s Treme, which had its final season in December, was based on Rogan. Steve Zahn played Davis McAlary, a radio DJ and band member/leader – like Rogan.

Rogan also served as a consultant on Treme and was a writer on one of the episodes. He also appeared in several episodes as a member of McAlary’s band, DJ Davis and the Brassy Knoll. 

According to nola.com Treme creator David (The Wire) Simon came to know Rogan through his music and became so close that Rogan taught piano to Simon’s son.

At the end of May The Dodgy took a trip to New Orleans. I decided to look up Davis Rogan and requested an interview. After his first set, during which I enjoyed fish tacos and several pints of NOLA Rebirth Pale Ale, we took our spots outside.

How did it feel to have a lead character on Treme based on you and for you to be an integral part of the show?

What an amazing thing to have somebody pick you – an aspiring piano player and songwriter – to have somebody pick you and it becomes this. (David Simon) decides you’re going to be one of the characters on one of his shows – that’s a major life changer, of course. Best of all is David handled it very sensitively. Because there came a point in time  where the character of Davis was going to be an ass. An untalented ass. And I had to role with it.

Davis Rogan Steve Zahn Steve Earle pic

Davis Rogan and Steve Zahn as Davis. And freakin’ Steve Earle!

Favorite memories from the show? 

Getting to meet and spend a little time with Elvis Costello on the set was amazing. Then when Simon told me he sent Elvis some of my new material, man, it don’t get better for an aspiring songwriter.

Also the chance to work with David Mills on the script (season 1 episode 7). He was a great guy and that was a great opportunity.

Season One.

There was a lot of “where do you place me” and “how do I best serve the unit.” and season one I wore all the hats. Then we reached season two and it kind of became, “I will  be the guy where every time you see Davis write a song, that’s me.” I became the songwriter for the character Davis.

If I consider…the weirdest fact of all is if I consider Galactic and Kermit Ruffins my peers and Irma Thomas and Allen Toussaint my idols, out of all my peers and idols I got the most songs on the show.

During a break in filming of one episode Rogan recants the scene in an upstairs room at The Blue Nile. It involved him, Ivan Neville, George Porter Jr. and someone else. 

We’re talking about the history of cocaine abuse in New Orleans in the 80s. Holy Fucking…to be a fly on the wall for that fucking thing.

Davis Rogan Wendell Pierce pic

Davis Rogan and Wendell Pierce on “Treme.”

Davis Rogan B-sides

“Before David Simon gave a shit about me Alex Chilton did. Gotta love Alex. I miss him too.”

Rogan says Simon had in mind five seasons for Treme. It lasted three and a half. It would have ended with the Saints winning the Super Bowl (which was mentioned in a sort of “flash forward” in the final episode).

I met Rogan’s wife, who is beautiful and very cool. Well done Davis Rogan!

I had to leave before Rogan finished his final set. But I came back when it was over and saw his drummer sitting outside Three Muses. I asked him if Davis was inside. He says, “Yea, and tell him to pay me my fucking money.” I felt like I was in an episode of Treme. Those who know the show will understand. Truly awesome.

Check out this article on cornetist Jack Fine. I actually had Mr. Fine take my iPhone and snap a pic of Rogan and me.

Before Rogan’s set started  a few of us were talking outside. A funny bald guy was there. Someone said something to him and he said he was in Treme. And shit…I know him. It was actor James DuMont, just hanging out. He played Capt. Richard LaFouchette on the show and had several scenes with Melissa Leo’s character.

James DuMont image

James DuMont of “Treme” just hanging out in front of Three Muses.

For more on Davis Rogan, and if you’re in New Orleans, find out where he’s playing at DavisRogan.com.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two of “Finn’s Rain”

Posted on May 24, 2014

CHAPTER TWO

Old Style suds dripped down Torpe’s crippled hand as he poured another draft for Norm.  The grizzled war veteran limped around the bar to the front door, locking it.  Then he turned off the “Mickey’s Tavern” neon sign.

“I’m not kicking you guys out,  I just don’t want any other ding-a-lings walking in,”  he said.  It was late.  I’d been here for four hours, ever since coming home from school and finding a note from my landlord reminding me that I had to be out of the apartment in three days.  The apartment in the four-flat that was being turned into a condominium – like so many others in my Bucktown neighborhood.  So here I sat in my favorite dive bar with Torpe the bartender and the only other customer, Norm, who sells caulk for a business near O’Hare Airport.  Norm is the kind of asshole who thinks stocking my fridge with 12-packs of Meister Brau is a good thing.

I met Norm on my first night at Mickey’s when I moved into the neighborhood three years ago.  I remember him showing off a vintage record player he bought and buying me a beer almost immediately after I stepped in the door. Norm looked like a monk, but the kind who fished in Wisconsin, drank in Chicago, and bowled everywhere in between. Norm and I, like many in the neighborhood, shared an affinity for Mickey’s.  I was one of the younger souls who inhabited the bar. It wasn’t exactly a destination for my generation or pretty much anyone who lived more than four blocks away. I lived just down the block and found it a comfortable refuge from the other bars or clubs. It had a lot of characters, including my favorite, Elmer, who, when not bartending, was a frequent Mickey’s barfly himself. Elmer was in his 70s, short and stubby with a wild flock of white hair. His saying, whenever I or select others walked through the door, was “Uh-oh – trouble at the pass.” Sometimes I helped Elmer stock the bar and often poured myself a few pints when he was in the bathroom or playing video poker. I also helped stock the bar’s raffle shelf with items donated by the owner, Mickey, that included things like flashlights, portable TVs, weather radios, a bottle of vodka, a car detailing kit, and something for a fishing boat.  The jukebox didn’t play often but when it did you’d hear a mix of  Hank Williams Jr., Bobby Darin, The Scorpions, and Erasure. Two televisions – big, tube styles hung in each corner. One was black-and-white.

My friend Brad liked to call Mickey’s “the bar that time forgot.”

I told Norm what transpired earlier that day while Torpe wiped off his hand and one of the two taps at the bar. I told him about my three losses – apartment, girlfriend, and job. I told him one of my options was moving in with my friend, Mosquito, in Indiana, where in exchange for free rent I’d help him build an addition to his garage and also get paid to help him build a different garage for someone else.

“Well, good luck with that,” he said.

A girl walked in. She had an Irish accent. I recognized her as the one who lived across the street from the bar. She stopped in to ask Torpe if Mickey’s was hiring because she wanted something to supplement her other bartending job. She wore a black dress with black tights and black boots and her hair was the color of a good Irish stout. She was pale, but not as pale as some Irish girls I knew. Torpe told her to come back tomorrow and talk to the Mickey. Then she ordered a beer and joined Norm and me at our side of the bar. She said her name was Darcy and that she wanted to dance, which was weird because that really didn’t happen at Mickey’s. She picked an old folk song I didn’t recall being on the jukebox. Then, instead of dancing, she sat back down next to me and asked what my deal was. By this time Torpe said he was getting ready to close. Darcy wanted to go to another bar. Then she said she didn’t. Norm said goodbye and went home, but not before watching Darcy kiss me on the lips. By the time we walked outside she knew my story about the job, the apartment, and possibly moving to Indiana. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. Sympathy? Someone else to vent to? I wanted her to kiss me again, but I probably blew it with my sob story. We stood outside under the darkened Stroh’s sign. Her apartment was across the street. It didn’t appear she would invite me in. My apartment was down the street. I asked her if she’d like to come back to my place. I moved in to kiss her and she complied, but barely.

“Maybe next time,” she said. “So why don’t you just go home and masturbate. And have fun in feckin’ Indiana.”

 

Some or parts of the passages may appear  in one of the essays on “The Dodgy.”