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Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").



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   Tulum in Woodstock
Saturday, August 15 2020
Saturday morning coffee got a late start out on the east deck, where the New York Times Spelling Bee panagram was "modular," something it took me about twenty minutes to find. Soon after I'd had my fill of that, I mixed up a small amount of grout and grouted the tile I'd set yesterday. Soon thereafter, I made the mistake of trying to push the tub back into place so I could show it to Gretchen (who always has much less patience than I do for these projects). It turned out that a couple of the tile on the triangular end walls stuck out just enough to catch the tub, and before I could grind these back, I managed to jerk one loose while pulling the tub back out of the way. This forced me to immediatley mix up tiny amounts of thinset and grout so I could reattach the loose tile, something I did in such an angry frenzy that of course I managed to slice my finger on the cut edge of one of the aluminum cans I was using as a mixing container.
Later though, after managing to shove the tub into its tight little spot and showing it to Gretchen, she was so delighted that she actually said it might be the first thing she would ever "Pinterest." It wouldn't be the first time my stuff showed up on people's Pinterest pages; somebody has posted pictures of my copper menorahs there.
This evening Gretchen suggested we go to Woodstock and get pizza and french fries at Catskill Mountain Pizza, something we hadn't done in 2020 at all I think. Powerful had been to Catskill Mountain Pizza on his own, but we'd never gone together. So Powerful drove us to the charging station on the edge of the big parking lot southeast of the Colony Café. We started our charging next to a Tesla, which had been replaced by a Chevy Volt by the time we left. We managed to find a outside table at Catskill Mountain Pizza and we had our two orders of fries very quickly. We all had drinks too, though I couldn't get the smell of bleach off my can of Little Sumpin' Sumpin', which kind of ruined the experience of drinking it. As for the pizza, the stoners in the back managed to screw up our extra-large pie, putting bacon and god knows what on one half of it. So our waitress apologized and went to put the order in again, though Gretchen got her to give us the half of the pizza that still had a chance of being vegan gratis. The pizza tonight wasn't great, but it was within the realm of my expectations.
For some reason, there were a lot of African Americans in Woodstock tonight, at least near Catskill Mountain Pizza, where groups of them waited for their pizza. While a group of them were clustered nearby, a pickup truck drove past and played a short sample of "Dixie" from its horn, which seemed like a provocation. Did they hit a different button to play that "neener neener nee neener neener nee nee" melody when they encountered groups of Asians?
When we were done eating what pizza we could (we had a lot to go), we walked to a nearby business called Early Terrible. Gretchen and I had been there once in the past and had had a pleasant indoor experience. But to suit our new pandemic times, they've added enormously to their outdoor space, which they happen to have plenty of. The result reminds me a bit of Portland, Oregon, but also of Tulum, Mexico. In Portland, there's never much natural space for the outdoor funsies, but in Tulum, everything is set among the trees in a jungle. At Early Terrible, they have enough trees and grass to pull off the Tulum vibe, and people seemed to be digging it. There's a sign when you enter saying that you must buy food in order to drink there; apparently it's a state law. But that isn't enforced at all, and Gretchen was able to order herself a bloody mary and me some girlie gin-based drink without us having ordered any food. Drink in hand, I found it was a great place to experience some socially-distanced people watching.
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