IT HAS HAPPENED AGAIN:
PROFESSOR MIKE'S FOURTH ANNUAL
IDES OF MARCH 2003
at BRENDAN'S BAR & GRILL
April 19th 2003
Welcoming his guests, the genial headmaster himself, Professor Mike Greene, of the Little Greene Schoolhouse [www.mikegreene.us], gives a hearty hail-fellow-well-met greeting as his guests trail in to Brendan's Bar & Grill on West 35th Street in the grand old city of New York. The photo below Mike is the tenderly grilled offering made by the very orthodox Bacchanalian chef to, in this instance, Bacchanalian Brother Stephen Dodson.
Hey, it's Brendan Kelly himself welcoming the Ides partakers to his fantastic restaurant dining room...Jesus, look at that window...and in the top photo, the cheap paper camera didn't really show the height of that ceiling and the columns and stuff like that...
And there they are, from the left going clockwise, it's Professor Douglas Jordon (of www.dreamchanges.com fame and fortune); Doug's esposa, Hilda Cabrera; then Laura Friedman; and next to her, her spouse, yes, it is Manfred Percy Mann of bass playing fame (and fortune) pretending to be Gerhard Schlanzky, one of the chief exhibitionists out at the AMNH, the place where Teddy Roosevelt leads the savages into civilization; and there's the beauty, Arabella Greene; Arabella graciously blocks out the full face of Stephen Dodson (is he pretending to be Languagehat?); fortunately, Steve's legitimately contracted better half's (Bonnie Dyer-Bennett) full face is visible--in constant filmscript concentration--perhaps even drawing future characters from the rack of characters surrounding her. Across clockwise from Bonnie, actually a crop of the bigger foto (old journalism spelling), is John Megaw, of triathlon fame and fortune; coming this way, in front of John, is his overweight (in a procreational sense) wife, Meredith Greene (since all Greenes are kin to The Professor, you may assume she is the professor's brother's daughter--this is the kind of logic Professor Mike Greene encourages)--Meredith rules over ABC, Mickey's favorite network; next, peering off into the space of Trekosmos, is Me Jain herself, Monica Jainschigg (of Price Waterhouse fame and fortune)--she is peering into Brendan's cosmos probably making rhapsodical contact with her contracted other half, Nick Jainschigg, who missed this year's Ides bash in order to care for the master dominator of Rhode Island, Squanto, who shits on the world to show his sorrow when he cannot see Parrotmeister Nick--neither of them can hear each other--in this case seeing is definitely believing; next to Monica is...where the hell is she? I see her dainty hand lifting a tumbler of Chardonay to her hidden lips...at the end of that hand and arm is supposed to be Michelle Plank (as in walking the plank of her Captain in Life); and last, very visible indeed, is the Captain of Michelle's Life, former Buddy Greco young All-American drumming sensation, Mark Plank (now drumming pharmaceutical drugs for fame and fortune).
And that is the gang...all smiles...all spiritual in the occasion. It was a grand occasion, one of the best-ever Ides bashes. The food was superb. The Professor had a prime rib...the son of a bitch melted in his icy mouth...Mark Plank was observed eating a fascinating looking combo of penne, shrimp, whatever else they put in there. Excellent.
EVERY YEAR, DEDICATED TO THE IDES OF MARCH, BUT NEVER
HAPPENING ON THAT DATE, PROFESSOR MIKE GREENE, YOUR
GENIAL HOST OF THE LITTLE GREENE SCHOOLHOUSE, HOSTS THE
FAMOUS IDES OF MARCH BANQUET AND BACCHANALIAN FETE.
THE FOLLOWING ARE FOTOS FROM THE IDES OF MARCH BANQUET HELD APRIL 23, 2002,
AT NEW YORK CITY'S EL POTE RESTAURANT. INNEBRIATION AND FULL BELLY
WAS THE CALL OF THE NIGHT.
The bottom photo is not from the Ides of March Banquet, but just afterwards, after a woman forced Professor Greene to accompany her to the site where once was one of Nelson Rockefeller's follies, the World Trade Center, to look at the beams of light that supposedly represented the exact height of that once proud--rather ugly--set of buildings (how about Bldg. 5 and Bldg. 7, they fell, too?), a rather disappointing site amidst the still excavating wild men heroes who probably ruined their lungs, brains, whatever else breathing that mixture of pure earthy crap that was moistening the air around that joint. The Professor was hanging out this woman's car window and hollering at the thousands of numbskulls milling around the spot--"Breathe deep, you idiots, breathe in the flesh and souls of your fellowman, and breathe in the asbestos you know the crooked State used to cheaply build those towers, and all the dead rat meat burnt and giving off its spirits to be breathed in by man"--and what about the many homeless and bum types who must have been buried down in the rubble under the building in the subway tunnels or wherever the homeless chance to find homes in such environments? This foto was taken of Professor Greene cooling off at a local bar on Warren Street after his tirades leaning out the dear woman's car window, a street so familiar to him since he once resided at 77 Warren Street in the lair of the great Chicagoan Gregory Alper, now a resident of Venice Beach, California. The Professor is looking up toward the heaven that usually resides on the ceilings of most bars.
Ah, the beauty of it all. Top foto is the darling Professor Greene chortling away with his friends, and the bottom foto shows the troop after the Philip Segundo Spanish brandy was brought out by Senor Enrique and the El Pote caballeros and poured liberally all about. John Wayne's brother of course is the one and only Professor Mike Greene. Down the table is the famous pianist, Douglas Jordon (www.dreamchanges.com); the guy in the blue striped shirt is the great drummer, of Buddy Greco fame, Mark Plank; across from Doug is (you can see the left side of his face peering around the beautiful face of his wife) Nick Jainschigg one of the world's best illustrators and teacher at RISD--put his name into Google and you'll get multiples of pages giving him mention and showing his work. The wives are close by their sides. Notice, however, Professor Greene sits all alone--by choice, believe me, not chance.