It’s Friday. You know what that means. It’s time for the musings of our friend, ID Collection’s Jim Williamson. Is it possible that there are more birthdays in the month of July than any other month? It sure feels like it. I think this month I have a minimum of fifteen friends with birthdays, not including my brother, one of my sisters (Happy Birthday, Suzie!) along with my rescue cat and my BFF in NYC—born on the exact same day and year as me.
We finally wrapped up what seemed like my week-long birthday celebration with dinner at Belly & Trumpet. The food was good. (With the exception of those chicken feet Max ordered. The appeal of those somehow escapes me.) We followed dinner with a show. Our friend’s band, MUR, played at the Double Wide, and they were good. Bonus: I can walk to the Doublewide from my house. So it was another win-win weekend.
The interiors of the restaurant reminded me a bit of a house in Meyerland, where I used to dog-sit for some friends of mine. The house was built in the 1960s but remodeled in that late 1980s take on Art Deco. I did love the layout of that Meyerland house, and I loved those dogs. One was an Airedale and the other a schnauzer. The schnauzer was somehow trained to hit the snooze button when the alarm went off in the morning. I kid you not. The alarm would go “beep, beep, beep,” and the dog would crawl up and hit it with his paw. I think he must have been a Cancer.
Back to all the other Cancers celebrating this month. Last weekend, Max has another of his annual parties—a birthday brunch for his dear friend, KB. This one is called, “The SPArty.” (Spa + Party = SPArty.) It sounds fancy, but it’s really super casual. Guests are encouraged to come as they are but they will leave full and relaxed. Max cooks up all of KB’s favorite foods. And for such a tiny person, she loves dishes that have more calories than Mama June’s neck crust. It is all super delicious. Add in some mimosas and a massage therapist on the third floor, with an appointment scheduled every thirty minutes from 9:30 until 2, and you’ve got the perfect day. As one person finished his crème brûlée French toast; another headed to the third floor for a therapeutic massage. The rest of us got to eat and catch up. Bacon, booze, and a massage. What’s not to like about that situation?
We really liked this year’s massage therapist. She was super nice. One year, the therapist was…How I can say this? He was not quite right. He reminded me of this person that used to come to one my Dad’s department stores. He would come in and walk around, then head over to the model airplanes, in the toy department and sniff some glue. After several sniffs, he would select his “brand” of glue.
So that wraps another week of much ado about nothing—all written on at least a fifth grade reading level. Next week I hope to share a sneak peek at the new fall collections for interiors headed our way for mid-August from London. Until we speak again. Happy Friday!
