What's that you say? You live in Pennsylvania and you're not registered to vote? Time is ticking friends! Let this be a FH PSA to tell you that the deadline for voter registration to be eligible to vote in the 2008 presidential primary is MONDAY. Yes, MONDAY. In Pennsylvania we like plenty of time to let our pokey bureaucracy process that paperwork, so even though the actual election isn't until April 22, you must get your forms in by March 24. That means get thee to thy local voter registration office or thy nearest post office and register! This is important!
Okay and additionally. In PA, you must also be registered with a party in order to participate in primary elections. So for those of you (like me) who are normally registered Independent, but you've been inspired to vote democrat, or republican if that's you, this time around, you need to re-register and switch your party registration to do that. The deadline for switching this is also Monday, March 24.
I really wish I had the time and the impetus to actually get out there and register people to vote. I heard a little piece on NPR about a woman in North Philly who's been sitting at a table in her local Thriftway all week registering people in her neighborhood to vote. As she explains in the interview, people from her part of North Philadelphia suffer from political apathy as a result of the widespread disinvestment in black urban communities at all levels of government, from national on down. By destroying all trust in the political system, by eroding political imagination, our country has disenfranchised a population most in need of the vote to express their social and political experiences. As of Thursday, this single woman had 100 new voter registration applications. In my book, that makes her a champion.
Rock the Vote offers printable forms that are automatically addressed according to where you live, so all you have to do is stamp them. Or if you prefer, voter registration mail applications are also available for free at any Post Office, State Liquor Store, or Public Library. How convenient, you're probably thinking. Now you can pick up a Nancy Drew, grab a bottle of whiskey AND register to vote! In this age of convenience, you wouldn't want to waste this opportunity.
3.22.2008
3.15.2008
Quite the Pair!
Welcome to a Fabric Horse beer week moment! This is an unofficial beer week event, so if you're scouring your schedule trying to figure out how you missed it, just stop. We aren't in their fancy schmancy calendar. Besides, this is really more of a DIY event, as in you procure the necessary couplings for this tasting and then revel in their exquisite match. So, are you ready?
First for the palette...and yes I mean palette:
A mellow brown halfbelt with creamy snakeskin overtones and hints of red. Then get ready for the pour:
Oh! It's that extra special made-in-Belgium-exclusively-for-Monk's Cafe Flemish Sour Ale! This beer pours deep mahogany in the glass and offers a fruity, cherry aroma, which gives way to a gentle malt flavor and lactic sourness. Lovers of kombucha will probably find this beer to be heaven in a glass. Even the little red and white label screams, "Drink me with THAT one!" My bottle of Monk's is pointing to the halfbelt as he says this. Yours will probably say something along those lines. By the way, Monk's is a really excellent beer bar in Philadelphia that has some insane number of beers both on tap and in bottles. A definite brew lover's destination. This Flemish Sour they have made just for them by the Van Steenberge brewery outside of Ghent, Belgium.
Drinking this beer in a tulip glass donning that tasteful utility belt, you will feel like pure class. That's no PBR! And no mere fanny pack. Both may weigh a little on your wallet, but you certainly get what you pay for. The shades of rich red and brown on your person will bring out the acidic notes in the brew to dance a beautiful Flemish jig on your tongue.
Ideally, you would taste this beer in the Monk's Cafe establishment in person, because then the other patrons can ogle your belt and foam with jealousy. Monk's Original is located at 16th and Spruce streets just below Rittenhouse, though the cozy place can quickly crowd and overwhelm. If you are a little antisocial, you might opt for the new Monk's Belgian Cafe at 21st and Green for its ample space and even outdoor seating. And for those of you who self-identify as Shut-Ins, you can always get the beer in a bottle at the Foodery and drink it alone at your house. (This latest scheme seems to describe our poor photographer.) For the belt, it should be up in the FH shop soonish, though if you can't wait to get your pairing on, feel free to email us too.
First for the palette...and yes I mean palette:
A mellow brown halfbelt with creamy snakeskin overtones and hints of red. Then get ready for the pour:
Oh! It's that extra special made-in-Belgium-exclusively-for-Monk's Cafe Flemish Sour Ale! This beer pours deep mahogany in the glass and offers a fruity, cherry aroma, which gives way to a gentle malt flavor and lactic sourness. Lovers of kombucha will probably find this beer to be heaven in a glass. Even the little red and white label screams, "Drink me with THAT one!" My bottle of Monk's is pointing to the halfbelt as he says this. Yours will probably say something along those lines. By the way, Monk's is a really excellent beer bar in Philadelphia that has some insane number of beers both on tap and in bottles. A definite brew lover's destination. This Flemish Sour they have made just for them by the Van Steenberge brewery outside of Ghent, Belgium.
Drinking this beer in a tulip glass donning that tasteful utility belt, you will feel like pure class. That's no PBR! And no mere fanny pack. Both may weigh a little on your wallet, but you certainly get what you pay for. The shades of rich red and brown on your person will bring out the acidic notes in the brew to dance a beautiful Flemish jig on your tongue.
Ideally, you would taste this beer in the Monk's Cafe establishment in person, because then the other patrons can ogle your belt and foam with jealousy. Monk's Original is located at 16th and Spruce streets just below Rittenhouse, though the cozy place can quickly crowd and overwhelm. If you are a little antisocial, you might opt for the new Monk's Belgian Cafe at 21st and Green for its ample space and even outdoor seating. And for those of you who self-identify as Shut-Ins, you can always get the beer in a bottle at the Foodery and drink it alone at your house. (This latest scheme seems to describe our poor photographer.) For the belt, it should be up in the FH shop soonish, though if you can't wait to get your pairing on, feel free to email us too.
3.11.2008
The War in Review
I realize I may register to your ear more like white noise in recommending to you the documentary on the Iraq War No End In Sight. Surely we've all mused on the misinformation and severely illogical decision-making which led us into this war in the first place and the systematic disregard for advice which keeps us there still. But somehow the experience of living through the time of the Iraq war, however critical, still does not leave me with a true understanding of the diplomatic and military processes whose sum is this mess of a reconstruction and occupation. In bits and pieces, congressional authorizations and troop movements over the course of the past five years are depressing but capable of digestion. Seeing these steps together, as missteps upon missteps is another thing entirely. It seems unnecessary to further encourage the near two thirds of the American people who already oppose the war to see a film which will likely turn their stomachs. And even less challenging to suggest it to you, FH Reader, as common sense tells me that you are even more likely to oppose the war than the average American.
But see it anyway. See it if only out of respect for the estimated 600,000+ of Iraqi civilian casualties estimated to date as a result of US invasion. Or for the nearly 4,000 American troop casualties. Or for the $1.8 trillion projected to be spent on the war by the time the country is stable enough for the United States to leave.
On the one hand, the film succeeds largely by letting the facts speak for themselves. You will not find any Michael Moore style cram-it-down-your throat liberalism. There aren't activists or Iraqi people on any soapboxes, leading what would be an easy beratement of American atrocities, diplomatic or otherwise. The film is mostly suits: interviews with bureaucrats, top officials of the Defense Department discussing their own experiences trying to work for a free and democratic Iraq. To supplement the diplomatic interviews, Director Charles Fergusson includes several soldiers and marines who served as well as American journalists who arrived in Baghdad shortly after the invasion. This particular choice on the part of the filmmaker makes the film more compelling than most, hearing the extreme criticisms of the anti-war movement instead spoken from the lips of those most likely to defend and champion Operation Iraqi Freedom.
I don't really know how to elaborate on the substance of the movie without doing it a disservice, as the movie so precisely captures what went so terribly wrong. I do, however, want to mention that in two different places, Fergusson includes the [controversial] footage of contract soldiers' mutilated bodies dragged through a city street to the sound of cheering crowds. He uses it to discuss the direction of the war and the relations between American forces and the Iraqi people at a certain point. Seeing it in such a context and now realizing what foreshadowing might have been gleaned, recalls to memory the reaction of the American public at the time of its release by domestic news media back in April 2004. Do you remember how people let out such a shout about seeing war atrocities committed against American soldiers on tv? Especially in the course of this documentary, that whole episode seems so tragically besides the point. Upon seeing the footage we should have screamed about what the hell was happening in Iraq in the name of "reconstruction" and instead we were preoccupied with our endless and blind patriotism--in this case supporting military honor at all costs.
Anyway, I don't want to keep you here and reinvent the meaning of the documentary's title. But. Sometimes amidst whatever else is currently filling your days, it's good for us to remember what it is that is shaping the world. Especially when it is the single thing that most defines the international reputation of the nation to which you belong.
But see it anyway. See it if only out of respect for the estimated 600,000+ of Iraqi civilian casualties estimated to date as a result of US invasion. Or for the nearly 4,000 American troop casualties. Or for the $1.8 trillion projected to be spent on the war by the time the country is stable enough for the United States to leave.
On the one hand, the film succeeds largely by letting the facts speak for themselves. You will not find any Michael Moore style cram-it-down-your throat liberalism. There aren't activists or Iraqi people on any soapboxes, leading what would be an easy beratement of American atrocities, diplomatic or otherwise. The film is mostly suits: interviews with bureaucrats, top officials of the Defense Department discussing their own experiences trying to work for a free and democratic Iraq. To supplement the diplomatic interviews, Director Charles Fergusson includes several soldiers and marines who served as well as American journalists who arrived in Baghdad shortly after the invasion. This particular choice on the part of the filmmaker makes the film more compelling than most, hearing the extreme criticisms of the anti-war movement instead spoken from the lips of those most likely to defend and champion Operation Iraqi Freedom.
I don't really know how to elaborate on the substance of the movie without doing it a disservice, as the movie so precisely captures what went so terribly wrong. I do, however, want to mention that in two different places, Fergusson includes the [controversial] footage of contract soldiers' mutilated bodies dragged through a city street to the sound of cheering crowds. He uses it to discuss the direction of the war and the relations between American forces and the Iraqi people at a certain point. Seeing it in such a context and now realizing what foreshadowing might have been gleaned, recalls to memory the reaction of the American public at the time of its release by domestic news media back in April 2004. Do you remember how people let out such a shout about seeing war atrocities committed against American soldiers on tv? Especially in the course of this documentary, that whole episode seems so tragically besides the point. Upon seeing the footage we should have screamed about what the hell was happening in Iraq in the name of "reconstruction" and instead we were preoccupied with our endless and blind patriotism--in this case supporting military honor at all costs.
Anyway, I don't want to keep you here and reinvent the meaning of the documentary's title. But. Sometimes amidst whatever else is currently filling your days, it's good for us to remember what it is that is shaping the world. Especially when it is the single thing that most defines the international reputation of the nation to which you belong.
3.10.2008
San Franciscans! Yeah You!
Just a heads up to those of you in the Bay Area who are thinking of ordering lock holsters or utility belts in the near future: You may or may not know this but we have a little stock outpost in your town! The kids at Box Dog Bikes have been good enough to keep some of our stuff in stock at their (adorable) shop in SF. We thought you might like to know because we continue to get loads of orders for lock holsters from the fine folks in California. While we surely appreciate your internet business, it might be cool for you to not have to pay shipping on some of these things if they happen to already be located in your municipality.
They are open seven days a week, conveniently, and just by the snapshots on their website you can see they are an accessible shop that has all sorts of useful things for your perusal. So even if you've already got a lock holster, you might get a kick out of their selection of fancy tires, used parts, or crafty signage. Plus, the shop is collectively owned by the people who work there. Which is pretty great.
They are open seven days a week, conveniently, and just by the snapshots on their website you can see they are an accessible shop that has all sorts of useful things for your perusal. So even if you've already got a lock holster, you might get a kick out of their selection of fancy tires, used parts, or crafty signage. Plus, the shop is collectively owned by the people who work there. Which is pretty great.
3.07.2008
You are Invited!
Come on already! Just say that you'll come! The cupcakes are out of the oven. The eggs are deviled. The tunes are queued. The joes are sloppy. And the costumes are...yes that is COSTUMES...are nearly done. Don't worry, we don't mean your costumes. You aren't wearing costumes. But we are...
If you haven't heard by now, R.E.Load (our day job) is turning ten. We are having a big party to celebrate the simple fact of our enduring existence. Ten years of making awesome bags for awesome people. And we were sort of hoping you would come.
I mean, you don't want to miss the single most fun friday of the year, do you? I didn't think so.
If you haven't heard by now, R.E.Load (our day job) is turning ten. We are having a big party to celebrate the simple fact of our enduring existence. Ten years of making awesome bags for awesome people. And we were sort of hoping you would come.
I mean, you don't want to miss the single most fun friday of the year, do you? I didn't think so.
3.04.2008
Free Books
In the line of work I happen to be in, the iPod as an invention is pretty much priceless. I can't really imagine what my life would be like if I had to switch the cd to my discman in between basting and trimming bags and belts. Let alone where I would keep it...Let's just say I am grateful to Steve Jobs for bringing me the tiny and powerful little mP3 player.
And I like music as much as the next guy but when you sew forty hours a week, it's stories and news and talking that pass the time. When we first moved in to our space on 11th street, we found it difficult to listen to npr or talk radio on the stereo because something about the acoustics or the background noise makes it near impossible to follow voices. So I came to rely upon headphones for this purpose. And in turn, on audio books.
Which is how I found Librivox. If you search the internets for free audiobooks it is the first thing to appear on your screen, though that's not what makes it an ingenious concept for a website. The whole thing is fueled by volunteers who read works that have chronologically become public domain, and then post the audio files on the website. In the United States, any work published before 1923 is considered in the public domain. Librivox cites the website gutenberg.org, which houses more than 20,000 free books, as their primary reference for determining a work's status as public or private. Once the books are recorded, they are then catalogued by author and available to download in a variety of formats. The users of the website directly benefit by increased selection, when they themselves contribute to the content of the website. And although online access to audiobooks has been made available through public libraries all over the place, the program most often used by libraries is 100% incompatible with iTunes and mac.
So if like me, you spend a lot of your time doing something like sewing wherein you have a lot of audio downtime, you should peruse the selection at Librivox. It has given me a chance to catch up on some classics, including but not limited to the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, the Secret Garden and Emma. And I just started downloading Ulysses. Springtime has made me ambitious.
And I like music as much as the next guy but when you sew forty hours a week, it's stories and news and talking that pass the time. When we first moved in to our space on 11th street, we found it difficult to listen to npr or talk radio on the stereo because something about the acoustics or the background noise makes it near impossible to follow voices. So I came to rely upon headphones for this purpose. And in turn, on audio books.
Which is how I found Librivox. If you search the internets for free audiobooks it is the first thing to appear on your screen, though that's not what makes it an ingenious concept for a website. The whole thing is fueled by volunteers who read works that have chronologically become public domain, and then post the audio files on the website. In the United States, any work published before 1923 is considered in the public domain. Librivox cites the website gutenberg.org, which houses more than 20,000 free books, as their primary reference for determining a work's status as public or private. Once the books are recorded, they are then catalogued by author and available to download in a variety of formats. The users of the website directly benefit by increased selection, when they themselves contribute to the content of the website. And although online access to audiobooks has been made available through public libraries all over the place, the program most often used by libraries is 100% incompatible with iTunes and mac.
So if like me, you spend a lot of your time doing something like sewing wherein you have a lot of audio downtime, you should peruse the selection at Librivox. It has given me a chance to catch up on some classics, including but not limited to the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, the Secret Garden and Emma. And I just started downloading Ulysses. Springtime has made me ambitious.
3.03.2008
Craftski Brewski Fest
This weekend was a busy one for my liver, but a good one. I heard about the Philly Craft Beer Fest from a friend of mine and despite its being scheduled for the evening after our big party I decided to go. This required a little more planning than usual as both sessions of the festival were expected to sell out and the tickets in advance cost a whopping forty dollars. And truthfully the thought of drinking again when Saturday evening rolled around was exhausting, but I rallied in the final daylight hours and decided it would be worth it. I'd always wanted to see what a thing like this was like. A beer festival. Tasting lots of high quality beers. Brewers and beer enthusiasts together in one place reveling in the craftsmanship of beer masters. I'd imagined this lovely, cozy environment where all kinds of beer geeks got together to talk shop, exchange secrets, fine tune their palate.
What I found was sort of like that. And by sort of, I mean not really at all. For one, the floors were sticky with the residue of beer from the first session. The crowd was overwelmingly comprised of a post-fraternity vintage who drag their dates to events where they can just hang out with other dude bros on Saturday nights, poisoning the air with their clouds of cologne. There were some thirtysomethings and nice guys around too, and a particularly friendly party of lesbians (whom I already happened to know) and these other demographics mixed it up enough to make the crowd manageable. Because it was almost unmanageable. The Philadelphia Cruise Terminal at the Naval Yards which hosted this extravaganza was packed wall to wall. It was difficult to walk, let alone talk to the brewers about beer or get snobby with other beer snobs. The first two hours we were there we did more elbowing than festivating. We didn't really have a choice. I had forgotten that a fest usually involves generic jazzy music, crowds, and chaos, regardless of the fest's advertised focus. A craft beer fest and a lobster fest are virtually identical to the eye and the ear. I had also forgotten that some people will come out just to drink beer, be it Coors light or Dogfish Head. I think it was probably good that I was reminded of this sad reality.
But we took a crucial breather half way through, regrouped, found a corner where we could hang out and relax for a minute so that when we returned to the floor there was more room, more patience. The fest featured 50 breweries pouring more than 120 brews, everything from blueberry ales (Bar Harbor) to a Smutt-a-roni, made from wild rice (Smuttynose). We tasted so many beers, none of which were spit-out-able. Unfortunately the extreme conditions made it impossible to write things down and while I can remember the styles, many of the corresponding brewers escape me. We were continuously impressed. And though in quantity I doubt whether we drank our money's worth, it was worth the forty dollars to have all these beers at your fingertips. The breadth of the selection was worth every penny. We spent the last hour bouncing between the Ommegang table and the Unibroue table. That is pretty priceless.
By the end of the night, we found ourselves climbing back onto the free shuttle (schoolbus) back to the Pattison stop on the subway, together with all the frat boys and rabblerousers. It was a flashback to the return busride from the Booze Cruise everyone went on during my Senior Week of college. We realized that despite being such a weird, expensive, out of the way event, the Philly Craft Beer Fest was ridiculously fun. For some kids from West Philly who usually do stuff on the cheaps, it was a worthy treat of an excursion. Forgive me the generic photos, as I forgot my camera...
But a heads up if you're a beerlover and you missed this, Philly's inaugural beer week starts March 7, with over 80 tastings and events sprinkled throughout the city. And many of them are freeski.
What I found was sort of like that. And by sort of, I mean not really at all. For one, the floors were sticky with the residue of beer from the first session. The crowd was overwelmingly comprised of a post-fraternity vintage who drag their dates to events where they can just hang out with other dude bros on Saturday nights, poisoning the air with their clouds of cologne. There were some thirtysomethings and nice guys around too, and a particularly friendly party of lesbians (whom I already happened to know) and these other demographics mixed it up enough to make the crowd manageable. Because it was almost unmanageable. The Philadelphia Cruise Terminal at the Naval Yards which hosted this extravaganza was packed wall to wall. It was difficult to walk, let alone talk to the brewers about beer or get snobby with other beer snobs. The first two hours we were there we did more elbowing than festivating. We didn't really have a choice. I had forgotten that a fest usually involves generic jazzy music, crowds, and chaos, regardless of the fest's advertised focus. A craft beer fest and a lobster fest are virtually identical to the eye and the ear. I had also forgotten that some people will come out just to drink beer, be it Coors light or Dogfish Head. I think it was probably good that I was reminded of this sad reality.
But we took a crucial breather half way through, regrouped, found a corner where we could hang out and relax for a minute so that when we returned to the floor there was more room, more patience. The fest featured 50 breweries pouring more than 120 brews, everything from blueberry ales (Bar Harbor) to a Smutt-a-roni, made from wild rice (Smuttynose). We tasted so many beers, none of which were spit-out-able. Unfortunately the extreme conditions made it impossible to write things down and while I can remember the styles, many of the corresponding brewers escape me. We were continuously impressed. And though in quantity I doubt whether we drank our money's worth, it was worth the forty dollars to have all these beers at your fingertips. The breadth of the selection was worth every penny. We spent the last hour bouncing between the Ommegang table and the Unibroue table. That is pretty priceless.
By the end of the night, we found ourselves climbing back onto the free shuttle (schoolbus) back to the Pattison stop on the subway, together with all the frat boys and rabblerousers. It was a flashback to the return busride from the Booze Cruise everyone went on during my Senior Week of college. We realized that despite being such a weird, expensive, out of the way event, the Philly Craft Beer Fest was ridiculously fun. For some kids from West Philly who usually do stuff on the cheaps, it was a worthy treat of an excursion. Forgive me the generic photos, as I forgot my camera...
But a heads up if you're a beerlover and you missed this, Philly's inaugural beer week starts March 7, with over 80 tastings and events sprinkled throughout the city. And many of them are freeski.
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