Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Thanksgiving Week of Indiana Memories #2: Harvester of Peppers

Today I awoke to the anticipation of a visitor from back home.

He isn't Santa Claus, but he does make toys in his barn every year at this time for disadvantaged children in Indianapolis. Here is a picture of one of the rocking horses he made two years ago.


I am talking of course about the Harvester of Peppers: My Dad.


This month I received in the mail my share of the harvest, thirty or so plump, green, spicy Italian peppers nurtured in the garden behind the house back on Indianola Avenue.

Carefully I strung them up and hung them in front of a window in our sunroom on Pine Street in San Francisco.


Serendipitously today they are ready to fry.

Cyndi is on her way to Houston to visit with the Texas Barcios. Our best wishes and sincerest thanks go out to all of them, and to all of our friends around the world this year.

Thank you for being in our lives.

If you ever get the mind to re-enact On The Road, don't forget to remember we have two extra rooms out here ready to crash in for some wild times in Frisco.

Happy Thanksgiving. We hope to see you soon.

--Phillip, Audrey and Elijah

Sunday, October 10, 2010

10-10-10, good buddy.

Among the many travesties our government has perpetrated upon its citizenry is its recommendation five years ago that CB users cease to utilize the official Ten Code, "in favor of regular language."

I can't help but wonder, "What do they think a code is?"

Alas, we bid farewell to "10-4" (affirmative), "10-30" (danger), "10-26" (estimated arrival time), and "10-20" (location, as in "What's your 20?")

Sadness.

But I would rather light a bonfire than curse the fog.

Today, on the unique and estimable date of 10-10-10, in honor of my dad, a classical scholar and lifetime Libra (staunch advocates of the number 10), on whose birthday this once-in-a-lifetime date falls, I hereby announce, in defiance of the administration, the creation of the "10-10-10 Code."

Here's what I have come up with so far:

10-10-10-1: "Huckleberries are ripe"



10-10-10-2: "Dogs on a hill"



10-10-10-3: "Flippers on Market Street"



10-10-10-4: "Spaghetti day"



10-10-10-Niner: "Free tater tots at Trader Joe's"



10-10-10-465: "Box of corn on the street"



10-10-10-6: "Owl cups"



10-10-10-50: "Sleepy doggy"



10-10-10-32: "Weekend in Napa"

(Use: "Honey, we're gonna need a 10-10-10-32 pretty soon or I'm gonna pop.")



And of course my favorite, and the most useful on this particular day...

10-10-10-72: "Happy Birthday!"



Please join me in celebrating the birthday of a great man, Bernard Francis Barcio, and also in expanding the very useful and intriguing 10-10-10 code!

With your assistance we will extrapolate the full potential of 10-10-10 in order to amuse ourselves, and yes, also to undermine the civil authority by communicating brief, coded outbursts of emotion and information over electronic devices.

10-10-10-72, Dad! See you soon!!!

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Some Words About the Fallen


The earth shook Tuesday and the sun burned out. All the trees fell down and the ocean dried up. The sky went black and my heart broke.

Now I enter into the official record the name of a great spirit.

Pico Barcio.

Kitty Boo Boo, Tumbleweed, Boo Boo Kitty, Shabu-Shabu, Snookums, Boo Boo Snookums, Cuddly Wuddly Boo Boo Snookums, Sneaky-Sneak, Pico Boo Boo, Stinky-Binky, Princess, Sweet Baby.

Favorite Things: Stretchy-Stretch, Sunny Spot, Poofy-Poof, Comfy-Cozy Spot, Lap Time, Bweky-Bwekfast, Munchy-Crunchies, Crunchie-Munchies, Back-and-Forth, Up the Stairs, Outside, Bewy-Wub, Foot Rub, Sleepy Sleep.

Best Friends: Audrey, Elijah, Phillip.

Remember May fourth. Pick a purple flower on May 4th and give it to a true friend. May 4th is Pico Day. The last day I got to spend with my friend.

We took a walk together in the park with Audrey. We cried together and hugged each other. We slept on the floor side-by-side with Eli.

We looked out at the bay together and wondered how it was possible to hurt this much inside.

Now there is a sadness in me, and in our home.

I get up to give you your vitamins but you're not waiting for me anymore on your little pillow. I see you in my mind's eye looking up at me, purring. I see you at the door trying to get outside. I see you curled up in a ball in the sunny spot on the couch, on the bed, on the table. I see you looking out the screen door back on Prospect Street in Indianapolis. I see you sitting in the grass back on Gunnison Street in Chicago watching the bugs whizz by. I see you purring on the rug in Marcy Village. I see you flipping in the air trying to attack my hand back in Houston. What a Globetrotter you were, Pico. You always went along with me. You were a true friend.

Thank you for accompanying me in this life and on this journey. Thank you for coming out here with Audrey and Eli and me to California. Thank you for visiting the Salt Flats with us. Thank you for walking on the beach with us in Monterey. Thank you for your gentle, loving presence every day. Thank you. I love you.

I'm sorry we didn't have more time. We were not ready to say goodbye. But I know you were in pain. I see your face in the stars looking down upon me and smiling.

You were a good kitty.

Give a hug to Dweezil. Jump up on Lillian's lap. Rub up against Bob's leg. If you have a chance, look up Rudy and Patches and Heathcliff and Olive and Nemo. Tell them we all said hi.

And remember this Pico: I will never forget you, Princess. I am thankful for your companionship, and I am devastated by this loss.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Tell My Wife I Love Her Very Much

When there isn't as much time as I would like

for roses and champagne

I rely on poets to explain

to my lover that I adore her.

That I miss her.

That we work too much and kiss too little.

That I think about crawling around with her on the floor, rolling around with her in the sand, running around with her in the hills, spinning around with her in the waves, and it makes me smile to see her face in my mind, her eyes looking into mine.

I want to tell her I love her, but I've told her so many times. I want to make it different this time, in some small way.

Remember this song, baby? My sister sang it to us at our wedding reception in Key West.



Remember the song I sang to you? My mom, laughing and crying at the same time, told me not to quit my day job. (I don't think I even had a day job!)



That was a smart thing I did, asking you to spend your life with me.

Thank you for saying yes.

I love you!

Friday, February 12, 2010

La Vita Nevosa!

On the heels of yesterday's Snow/Journey post comes more pictures from more of my loved ones in various places tenaciously enduring the blizzard of 2010.

This is my cousin Kathy in Virginia:


That shmoo to Kathy's right is actually a Toyota Prius, believe it or not.


My sister Cyndi in Dallas who started yesterday in disbelief that a tiny dusting of white would keep Texans out of their trucks, off the road and away from work watched helplessly out her office window as the city received 9.8 inches of snow before day's end. Here's more on that story. And here's a photo from Cyndi from the front line of the biggest snowfall in Dallas history:


All I can say to you cold souls is you have my respect.

And better you than me.

We'll keep an eye on all of this as long as we can...


...and if you can dig an airplane out and get enough ice off the wings, come out for a visit. I'll get you the friends and family discount at Starwood!

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Keep those snow pictures coming!

Back when we used to live in Indiana we spent as much time as possible with our friends and family who kept us sane despite all the crazy happenin's back in that state.

In particular, one group of awesome folk we hung out with alot was named Eric, Maya and Rigby.

Here are the only pictures I have of Eric and Maya:



Rigby was Eric and Maya's son. He spent most of his time looking for the ball and asking where the ball was.

Here's the ball:


While Rigby was looking for the ball, Eric and Maya and Audrey and I spent our time looking for ways to move out of Indiana.

We talked a lot about how much we hated snow and how four months of dreariness and grey slush and constantly running the furnace made all the other things we didn't like about Indiana, like the crooked politicians, the coal plants, the arsenic in the air, the polluted water, the industrial pig farms, the KKK, etc, seem so much worse.

Then one day Audrey and I moved to San Francisco. A few months later Eric and Maya moved to Washington D.C. where cool people like Eric and Maya and Rigby are desperately needed.

Then two days ago Eric sent me this picture (below) of Rigby (left):


Eric is an engineer, as you can probably tell.

Then another person who moved away from Indiana, my sister Cyndi who moved to Dallas, sent me this picture of the weather in Dallas this morning:


Cyndi said only six of the 25 people in her office came in to work because of the three tenths of an inch of snow they got.

Cyndi of course went to work because it takes at least fourteen inches of snow to make a Midwesterner consider the possibility of not driving.

Anyway where I'm going with all this is that I've been thinking alot lately about snow and friends and family and how our friends the Daniel family in Chicago have been buried in snow for the past 3 months and how my dad and Audrey's family are still back in Indiana and how they have gotten a bunch of snow this year, I mean a BUNCH of snow, and how it seems to be snowing everywhere the people I know have moved to, and how it never snows in San Francisco, EVER!

Then I started thinking about how i just recently realized the band Journey is from San Francisco, and how I like a lot of Journey songs.

Then I thought I sure would like to rub this all in everybody's face somehow, I mean in a loving way.

So for all of you trapped in the drudgery of winter, wherever you are, here is a message of love to you from Audrey and me and Pico and Eli:

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

My Letter of Resignation


To all Ramblas Managers, Investors, Associates and Staff:

Re: Phillip Barcio

In life there are times when it falls on a person to convey news that may not be well received by the ones he or she loves. This is one of those times. So I feel it best to be direct.

I have accepted a new appointment as the General Manager of Clock Bar, Michael Mina’s lounge in the lobby of the Westin St. Francis, on Union Square. My employment with Clock Bar begins on Monday, March 1, 2010.

My time at Ramblas Tapas has been the most enriching, rewarding and entertaining experience of my professional career. It is ending sooner than I imagined it would, or would have liked.

I hope each of you with whom I have shared this wildly successful growth experience will understand that this is the necessary next step in my professional life. The opportunity at Clock Bar with which I have been presented is one which has the potential to position me to achieve the long range life goal I share with the love of my life, Audrey, to operate our own restaurant. Such a goal requires that I attain relevant, daily experience above my current position as AGM.

It is my conviction that there is no greater reward in life than knowing you have contributed positively to the emotional, spiritual and professional progress of those you hold dear. If all of you feel the same as I do about the bonds we have created with each other at Ramblas then you share my heartfelt appreciation for the unique moments we have created together, and the quantifiable success we have accomplished.

Thank you for enriching my life and helping me get better every day.

Throughout the month of February, it is my highest priority to set the stage for Ice’s success as the new Chef at Ramblas.

Remember that what we think about, we bring about. It is my hope and my expectation that each of you will focus on the positive and open your hearts to whatever new paradigm emerges as we transition together to this new place.

Avoid cynicism, remember the lessons about service and integrity that we have learned together and carry on the work we started, whether at Ramblas or in your other endeavors.

I will miss all of you, and this wonderful place, more than I can express in this font. Perhaps I should have used Times New Roman. As my dad says, “Love the ones who love you, and to the rest, succhiarlo!”

I love all of you and I hope you have gotten the chance to learn how to love me.

Phillip Barcio, Assistant Manager, Ramblas Tapas

Sunday, January 24, 2010