H is for Happy Birthday...

And of course, Happy New Year. Happy Hanukah. Happy Kwanzaa. Happy Pagan Holidays. No Festivus, kind of corndoggish. SHit, I might be able to get 20 H's out tHis bitcH.

2 years and still going. Not with as much fervor as there should be, but we're not dead yet. I feel a pulse. Like a bear hibernating, maybe 1 or 2 breaths per minute, a slower heart rate. Just conserving that energy for the new year. I read somewhere earlier this year that on average most blogs hadn't been updated in 4 months. In that case I'm ahead of the curve, but status quo isn't the aspiration. You don't get yachts and coupes with that. And a G5, forget about it. I mean fugedaboudid for my Jersey Shore fans. J-Woww I see you with them bulletproof boobies. What a slob. But I love her?? Fake titties are for the birds but saline packs catch a bullet on some Leroy shit. Speaking of which, peep the picture below. Sunny and lovely Cleveland. Just one stop on the Summer of Howfresh Tour '09. Maybe I'll discuss it at a further juncture.



There are 20 "H" caps up top. I guess I could have stuttered the Happy Birthday, but that would have been o-o-o-o-o-obnoxious. Then we can blame it on the a-a-a-a-a.... Not that taking a picture of 20 H hats and 1 Howfresh cap isn't, but I wanted everybody to know that I haven't been home with a thumb up my ass, but rather out and about looking for some headwear. Each of these hats deserve their own post, but I'm running out of clever H titles. Time to start adding some silent H's.

I've also been eating. A lot. I'm proud to say that I gained 15-20 pounds this year. Yes LBs, not that fack off British currency. I'm still broke. The brokest blogger you know. Irrelevant though. One thing this blog has taught me to do is eat. And to do so with reckless abandon. Costs too much? Not that healthy? No appetite? Got food in the crib? Fuck it, we're going in. Because at the end of the day I will do a post on it. Unfortunately I've even fooled myself into believing this. In 2010 I'll do a retrospective of my '09 meals. If I forget how it tasted, I'll try to say something amusing to make you think I'm not full of shit. That is the tough thing about recalling events where sensory functions play a huge part. You remember the overall experience, but the tastes, textures, intricacies and so on get a bit muddled. Especially when you're ON TO THE NEXT ONE so soon. I need to hire a full-time memoirist.



What better way to ring in the born day than enjoying some good food and good music. Thanks to Ian @ a Different Kitchen, I scored a pair of tix to the Funk Flex Hip Hop Legends show @ BB King's. Chock full of legends. Large Professor/Main Source, Ed OG, Masta Ace, EPMD, Doug E. Fresh with a very special appearance by Lil' Vicious, Onyx, Ghostface (getting emotional in the red vest), Method Man, and the one group I wanted to see most, Showbiz & AG. Unfortunately I got there after they went on. What part of the game is that?? I hedged that the show would start late and lost. I guess I'll never learn. Show was dope. Energy was craze from both the audience and artists. Method Man was a no show but that didn't dampen my mood. Though there were a lot of long faces in the crowd. Buck up youngin'. Don't you know this hiphop shit breaks hearts??



I'm all over the place. I know. So let me finish this on the most apropos tip, food. Howfresh Eats- right? Precisely. The birthday meal, and crowning meal of the year was provided by Momofuku Ssam on 13th and 2nd Ave. And it sure as shit hit the mark. What we have here are kusshi oysters from Vancouver Island and some Jonah Crab claws. The meal deserves its own post, so I shall provide one. David Chang, hate him or love him, knows what he's doing.

Some footage from the show. A little bass heavy. New Year's Resolution- more treble, less bass. Is that a tits and ass reference? No clue.

Doug E. Fresh- Freaks @ Hip Hop Legends Show @ BB Kings 12/23/09


Ghostface Killah- 4th Chamber / Holla @ Hip Hop Legends Show @ BB Kings 12/23/09


Onyx- Throw Ya Gunz @ Hip Hop Legends Show @ BB Kings 12/23/09

Wack on the Walls but Dope on the Dogs- A Black Friday Fable.

To be clear, this isn't a fable. There really isn't any moral to be learned. Maybe some behavior to avoid. This is more of a story, a tale. I just wanted maximum alliteration.

You know how it goes. A sneaker gets hyped on the internet. The images look pretty good so you consider the cop. Then you see it in person and think damn, that shit is wack. Doesn't happen that often, seldom in fact, however this is precisely what happened with the Eddie Cruz "West" Nike Air Force 1s. Purple and yellow is my thing- Kobe all day, but the red outsole really freaked me out. I know my style isn't considered "progressive", but red? Shit didn't make any sense.



Store after store these shiny purple joints kept bugging. This is a sneaker that historically I should like sans the patent swoosh. My disdain runs deep. It's an air force. It's a premium air force, it has snake skin, it is purple, it has different stitch on the tongue tag and the O.44 sticky rubber logo is embossed on the heel. The little intricacies I gets downs with. But no, not interested. Not even a second chance. Like they did me dirty and were left to rot. Until I peeped them on feet. I was like, Hold Up!! Wait a minute!! My man Wes, being the astute Nike employee that he is, had them joints on for the ultimate sell. On some, "yeah, I thought they were pretty weak sauce too, but peep now." It worked on me. I'm not sure exactly why, maybe the new perspective of looking down as opposed to eye level. My style's over your head, I enjoy the aerial view. The red wasn't as noticeable and the shiny snakeskin wasn't as overwhelming.



So now they're on the radar, but for $135 not a necessity. Plus I have the purple with yellow LA forces so I'm thinking I'll call these skip. But the textures are different so that thought is thrown at the window. My boy tells me he can get them for $81, so that entices me more, but I'm still not fully convinced. Until Black Friday. When all sense and rationale gets thrown out the window and the lunacy ensues. No, there weren't any fly pony hair jumpoffs this year.



I'm in Goliath when I see the purple piff (not really, but again, my alliteration obsession) on the wall with a 40% off sign, thus making them $81. No longer an eyesore, I grab the joints to do some last minute recon. As I'm holding them, I hear 2 dudes ask for an 11 and 11.5, my size. I didn't even get a chance to make a play on them. Uh oh. Call it territorial, call it mania, attack mode is instantaneously triggered. I run to catch Dee, malt liquor extraordinaire, as he returns from the stock room. Stop him and ask on the humble if that's the last 11.5. For those in the know, an 11.5 is pretty rare, and usually only 1 pair per size run. He nods affirmative. Ask if there are more 11s, he throws up the "3" sign. Seeing I want them he says I got you, hitting me with the box just as Jim Kelly used to place the pigskin in Thurman Thomas' bread basket.

Feeling like I just stole the last Linden's cookie from the cookie jar, I quickly sit on the bench in the back sliding the pair underneath, hiding all evidence. I don't turn around, feeling like I just snaked some dude for his kicks. Dudes make their way towards the back, me thinking I'm going to have a problem. Never that, they just want to know about DQM, so I hit them with the bullet points, they say good looks and leave me be. Do the right foot try on. All signals say go and I'm at the register. Rose bags them (What up Rose!!), AMEX debt increases, and I'm out the door. Once that cool November air hits, waking me from my semi-delirious sneaker blindness, I look at the kicks again and realize why I never liked them in the first place.



Fuck it, what's another pair of kicks? Just another albatross around my neck. Another nail in the coffin. But at least my feets will look oh so fresh.

I've been racking my brain to think of other kicks that might have looked wack upon first glance and then flipped the script on me. I'm coming up blank. However what you see below might fit the bill. Shits offended me on the wall, but after trying them on and feeling the rabbit ass on my toes, yo, I might need them in my life. It's a big step for me though. Hold my hand.

Shake, Rattle & (Insert Crustacean) Roll- Luke's Lobster in the East Village.

Inexpensive seafood, somewhat of an oxymoron, falls into several categories. 1- Semi-edible inexpensive seafood, proceed with caution. 2- Passable inexpensive seafood is out there, but again, be wary. 3- Tasty inexpensive seafood can be found with a little research. 4- Delicious inexpensive seafood is in your dreams. A fallacy. Until now. Let me introduce you to Luke's Lobster on 7th Street in the East Village. My new go-to for that seafood fix, and open close to midnight 7 days a week. After having just 1 lobster roll, it's amazing how many urges I've needed to temper. I'm talking daily occurrences. Sometimes I'm able to shove them under the rug. Other times I find myself hopping on the 1 to the N,R and walking several blocks just to satiate the jones. Or if the hunger pangs are unbearable I take the helicopter to the Houston and East River landing.



As if it isn't obvious, I love seafood (see header photo). Especially fresh, high quality fruits from the sea. Lobster belts keep the ass from showing. I think it might be time to truly go overboard and make the wardrobe strictly H hats and Polo lobster get-ups. Let me mull it over. When word dropped that Luke's was to open on October 1st, being sourced directly from a Maine seafood processing plant, I nearly lost my shit. Nah, it wasn't that dramatic, but the anticipation brewed. With Mara's Homemade around the corner, the crustacean market was on smash down there, the Crustacean Corridor, Briny Boulevard, Shellfish Street, yeah yeah yeah.



Let's discuss the goods. Luke's offers 3 types of rolls: lobster, crab (Jonah crab), and shrimp. Aware of the quality of their product, they keep ingredients to a minimum and let the seafood shine. No posse is needed on the stage to distract from lack of talent. These motherfuckers shut shit down. Grand opening, grand closing. Damn- my bad. Didn't mean to get all crazy, but this is an accurate depiction of the feelings evoked. Don't hate me, hate Luke's for providing that aquatic crackjuice.



A lightly toasted and buttered New England (booooooo!!) style hot dog bun loaded with 4 oz. of flesh. Ayooo. No mayo, just a pinch of seasoning- oregano, pepper and a couple of other spices I believe. That's it. The seasoning just enhances the sweetness and saltiness of the meat- both lobster and crab. Delicious. I'll admit that 4 oz. doesn't sound like a lot, but the richness makes up for it. Just look at them- the chunks of plump tender claw meat about to jump out of the bun. For the big eater, you might need to double up or add on. At least it will taste good.



Lately I've been going with the crab rolls. The flaky meat is addictive. Plus I just like the way Jonah Crab sounds. No clue why. Biblical maybe? I'm fairly new to the crab carnival. Lobster been my thing for years, but lately I find lobster being too chewy, esp. the tail, and the crab just stunting hard. Having recently experienced fresh king and dungeness crab out west, it's only right I let the Atlantic crabs get some shine. Blue crabs get it in as well, but it takes a lot of work just to get a little morsel.



The crab roll costs $9, 5 beans less than the lobster roll. For now I'll keep our relationship open and keep bouncing back between the 2. Hopefully I won't give the lobster crabs. I had to.



Luke's provides several options so you can try their offerings without ordering a la carte. "A Taste of Maine" consists of a small lobster, crab and shrimp roll (2 oz. each), pair of Empress claws from the Jonah crab, Miss Vickie's Chips, and a Maine Root soda, all for $20. For the Big Willies there is the Noah's Ark, perfect for 2, or 1 starving dude- 2 small rolls of each, 4 claws, 2 chips and 2 sodas for $38. After trying the Taste of Maine I know now not to order the shrimp roll. It's not bad, just nothing near the other 2. Shrimp is easily attainable, the other stuff not so much.



The Empress claws, $5 for 4, are a nice little snack for the crabheads. The perfect accompaniment to the lobster roll. Yeah, the meal might run you $20, but there won't be one regret. You're allowed to have some fun.



The Schooner, the Luke's version of a combo meal include the roll, half a dill pickle, bag of Miss Vickie's chips and a Maine Root soda, an organic and Fair Trade Certified beverage. No HFCS in that bitch. You know how we do. I try to fall back from the fizz, but for these I'll indulge. Root beer, sarsaparilla, ginger, blueberry- joints are no joke. With all this, your appetite should be at bay for a couple of hours.



Kidding aside, please be careful around the stools. Testicle and labia snapping has been known to occur. It's worth risking be labeled as lewd in order to protect the well-being of my readers.



I'll admit that $14 for a sandwich isn't cheap. But look at what you're receiving for that amount, and compare that throughout the city. The value will become evident. My self-control is at an all-time minimum, so the idea of spending doesn't even register, even if wiser judgment says to fall back- but at least I'm smiling while doing so. Plus with every 10 rolls you purchase, the 11th is free. Make sure to keep your "Lobsta Mobsta" card(so The Departed) handy and let the spoils add up. Recently soups and chowders have been added to the repertoire. I'm sure the first of many. Also word is that they're trying to get a liquor license to aid in the consumption of the crustacean. Something to look forward to. And if all this isn't enough, for my locavores, Luke's tells you the particular New England body of water where the daily catch was caught. My inner-hippy is ecstatic.

Props to Antoinette for title inspiration. Wasn't able to find the mp3. Anyone got it?


Luke's Lobster
93 E 7th St.
New York, NY 10009
212.387.8487
www.lukeslobster.com
Sunday-Thursday: 11 am - 11 pm
Friday and Saturday: 11 am - 1 am

Do You Understand How Many 27 is? A lot. Like a Real Lot.

Are you aware of the effort it took to assemble 27 pieces of Yankee paraphernalia? I mean finding all those fitteds took half a day at least. Better off I'm not working. With that said, now try to imagine the feat of winning not 1, not 5, not 10, not 20, but 27 world titles. Unbelievable.

Back on top. Not necessarily where we belong, but where we like to be. Anybody that's been a Yankees fan since the mid 90's dynasty has a skewed image of what it's like to be a Yankees fan. Don't blame us for thinking we should always be playing in October, and apparently November nowadays. It's just what we're used to. Blame George. Fucking jerk. Stop spending already. How dare you spend money to field a team that has the potential to win. Put a limit on Cashman's spending habits. The man is drunk with luxurious taste. Now let's sign Holliday and Cliff Lee and get it popping.



I'll admit, this win didn't hit me the same as the 1996 to 2000 titles. Those were special, real special. Especially for a kid that saw the miserable 1980s. Andre Robertson, Steve Balboni, Cecilio Guante, Bobby Meacham. The list goes on. Then we're doing it in '94 and the strike hits. And then the grueling loss to the Mariners in '95. Then Torre signs. The guy had a sub .500 record. How could any fan be excited about that? And then the magic happened. And kept happening. I keep seeing Paulie O running in like the maniac he was and diving on the pile up. Not giving a fuck, just full of pure unadulterated joy. This team is too dainty for that? I hope not. Jumping in circles is cool and all, but, you know. Maybe pile ups are outlawed in their contracts.

But when I see Mariano, Jeter, Andy and Jorge holding the trophy it feels great. Looks great too. These dudes are unbelievable. And who knows how many more years we have with them. So we might as well cherish it while it lasts. And let's be honest, beating Philthy made it that much better. Especially with Pedro on the mound. Twice. Even if he was a hired gun, we still beat him and with conviction the second time. And knowing those terrible Philthy fans are stewing and complaining right now puts a smile on my face. I love reading the comments on these Philly sites. And if they hate then let them hate and watch the titles pile up. It's OK J-Roll you can say what you want. You're the better team? Cool with me. When I look in the books and see that the Yankees are the 2009 World Champions that's all that counts. Jimmy, you might have won the May series, I'll give you that. But unfortunately that doesn't constitute WORLD SUPREMACY. I know the frames were rose, but the lenses too? Damn homie, in '08 you were the man homie, what the fuck happened to you??

Parade tomorrow. Let's get the ticker-tape tic toc ticking. I'll be there repping hard. Maybe make out with Kate Hudson just off GP. You never know.

Ballgame over! Yankees win! Theeeeeee Yankees win!

H is for Halloween '09- Heard About the Panda at the Diner?

So a panda walks into a diner, orders 2 eggs scrambled with bacon and rye toast, and of course coffee with sugar, no milk, pays his bill then pulls out and shoots up the whole place.

As he's leaving somebody asks him, "Yo panda, why'd you do that for?"

Panda replies, "Google me bitch!!" and takes off.

So dude pulls out his blackberry, googles panda and reads...

EATS SHUTES & LEAVES.

KILLED IT. I'm out of here.



Halloween 2009 and pandas are in full effect. Keeping with the black and white theme from last year, skunks, we don't plan on any shootouts, but most definitely some pandemonium. At least we won't hear any terrible "You skunks stink" jeers. Ugh. To dis a panda you need to be somewhat intelligent.

For all the years we've been doing it up for Halloween, this costume is by far the shittiest. 90 beans for a pair of polyester pants (sort of tight), furry top and a massive headpiece. Paw foot covers too. The headpiece is dumb tight, but no turning back now.

Enjoy.

I'll Take a Shitter on the Schmitter aka Zim, This is for You.

Truth be told the Schmitter is one of the best ballpark food items on the planet. But we're going to ignore that for the time being and rep for my Billy Barou Nachos. A year ago today I had my Ryan Howard jersey shirt on repping for my NL East cohorts. I mean they're the Mets' arch nemesis and I hate the Mets so based on some transitive property thinking it made sense. (Buck I see you) And who were these Devil Rays? Bunch of one hit wonders.



My disdain for the un-lovable losers, last year aside, began on Sunday, May 24, 2009 during the extra innings loss to the Phils at the new Cathedral. A tough loss as Melky tied it up in the bottom 9th only to cough it up in the 11th. Thank you Brett Tomko, enjoy Oakland. Jerk. I heard about Philly fans, (not a Giants fan so indifferent to Eagles fans, until now) but seeing them in person is a completely different animal. And animals they were. A fucking May inter-league game and these dudes (girls too) are acting like it's the biggest day of their life. Bigger than first born status. "Fuck the Yankees" chants and all that. Goatees dyed red, cheesesteak hats, awfulness. And I'm not trying to talk shit behind anybody's back here. Not my thing. Just being objective, as I'm sure these people would agree that they're dirtbags too. I truly understood the degree of disgustingness. Don't even start me on the female Eagles fan in B'more who accosted us following a Yankees v. Orioles game- chick saw the Yankees garb and went into the "E-A-G-L-E-S" chant hardbody. No bullshit, the veins on her neck were trying to escape. Not bad looking either. What a shame.



Don Zimmer we still love you. The way you were face planted by this jheri curled assassin. Unacceptable. We will seek and exact revenge in your honor. Tonight is what everybody's been waiting for. The suspense, the drama. Pedro back in NYC for the first time in 4 years, though his Mets stint doesn't really register. Dude was half-crippled. Game 7 of the '04 ALCS is the real last game. The game that most mattered. A terrible day.



I thought this shirt would never have meaning again (aside from the obvious). With Damon benedicting and joining the greatest franchise ever, Manny out in Lala, and Pedro's invalid status for so long, who would have thought? (We need a Papi, Pedroia, Youkilis and Papelbon shirt ASAP) The baseball gods knew what was coming. And tonight, judgment shall be delivered. It better, because I need me some cheesesteaks, and refuse to spend my loot in Philly if they win. And going back to Philly down 2 is not a good look. Especially with a freshly insulted Cole Hamels being demoted to a 3rd stringer. LET'S GO YANKEES!!! Let's wake the fuck up. Yeah you Tex, come on. A-Rod don't start freaking out and spiral back to previous post-seasons. Not now. Man the fuck up. And Joe, get your shit together. If he's not pitching well, yank him immediately. Let's go boys.



Fuck a schmitter. Fuck a cheesesteak. We rep hard tonight. Moe's Southwest Grill gets busy. And what's Philly's answer to Jiggaman? Schooly D? Ha.

Katz's Deli really needs a stand at the stadium. That would be some real battle royale shit. NYC Pastrami vs. the Philly cheesesteak. Is it even a question?

HowfreshEats Stacks (Potato) Chips Like Hebrews Vol. 7- The Whole Foods Edition.

Lucky # 7. Mickey Mantle status. This could and should be 2 posts. 1 for the fried taters, and another for the grand introduction to Whole Foods. My organic/local/slow foods/artisanal cherry has been popped. I thought WF was some crunchy cooperative patchouli scented wierdo fest. Boy was I wrong. This place is an epicurean wonder land. The prepared foods alone would take me a month to conquer. OK, maybe a week. I am ashamed that a man of my stature in the food game is a Whole Foods newbie. It's what I get for judging. And hating. 4 bags were acquired from WF and 2 were purchased at the market across from 21 Mercer, based on the recommendation of some big dog in the sneaker game, gate keeper status. Sneakers and potato chips have more in common than you think. Think about it.

You can check out the previous 6 "Stack (Potato) Chips..." installments here: Vol. 1, Vol. 2, Vol. 3, Vol. 4, Vol. 5, and Vol. 6.

Herr's Kettle Cooked Boardwalk Salt & Vinegar

I'll admit, Herr's isn't on my radar. Chip snob? Maybe. Major bite and acidity. A good chip, light and easy to eat. Fairly addictive. Not as thick and crunchy as other "kettle" chips, though more substantial than a bag of Lay's. A little lip swelling after a decent sitting. The vinegar and salt do not play. Never saw chips on a boardwalk, only salt water taffy, but I won't question it. Heavy with the ingredients- lactose, barley flour, sodium diacetate, silicon dioxide (anti-caking agent). Cooked in vegetable oil (corn, cottonseed or soybean). 8.5 oz bag, $3.49.

365 Sea Salt & Vinegar Kettle Cooked

365 is Whole Food's in-house brand. This is the salt & vinegar chip for beginner's. No bite whatsoever. Sweet in fact. Seems like a milder, less acidic cider vinegar. There's a lingering taste that I can't describe- sweet, floral? Something I'm not accustomed to in the pantheon of chipology. Not offensive, just different. 8.5 oz bag, $3.50.

Kettle Brand Jalapeno

Like all Kettle Brand product, a really nice chip. Always crunchy, bite-sized, and packed with flavor. Jalapeno is a newer flavor extension as noted by the red chile ablaze on the bag. A darker chip specked with tiny pieces of parsley, it packs some heat. Nothing unbearable, but if squeamish to some fire, I'd suggest you stay away. Nice blend of salt, spice and sweet. OD on ingredients, however Kettle brand utilizes "wind power, solar power, green building and biodiesel" thus maintaining a small carbon footprint. That's what I'm talking about. 5 oz. bag, $2.50-$3.

Tyrrell's Cider Vinegar & Sea Salt

I had read about these in a foodie mag (hate foodies) so when I saw these on the WF shelf you know I snatched them with the quickness. Does that make me a foodie? Ugh, fuck me. Anyway, these are made in the UK, Herefordshire to be more specific. Similar to the afore mentioned 365 sea salt & vinegar chip, these are very mild, and sweet. A darker potato, these are very dry, i.e. less oil than most chips. Great salt distribution. The first bite gives off sweet followed by a back of tongue saltiness. Listen, it's what I'm feeling. (I imagine a pause is necessary since the words, salt, sweet, tongue, feeling etc. were used) The bag doesn't advertise "kettle cooked" but reads "hand cooked." Thinner than typical kettle cooked, but just as crunchy. Sunflower oil with a variety of other ingredients including vinegar powders, sugar and lemon powders. 5.3 oz. bag, $3.50.

Boulder Canyon Totally Natural

I like my chips just as I like my women, totally natural. Ahh, the lovely Boulder Canyon. They're like that girl that you were really serious with and then things end. You see her years later and it just feels good- things are just where you left off. And then you wonder why it even ended. But there's no need for any serious talk, just enjoy the moment. These chips are great. Quality is unparalleled. Flavorful- the potato is always the star of the show- earthy and salty. Crazy crunch. Very rich, to the point that I get a little heartburn after too many. Heart burn, heart ache? Same shit- see the comparison? 5 0z. bag, $3.

365 Organic Classic Potato Salt & Pepper

Forgive me for this purchase. Not kettle cooked. What was I thinking? Mad brittle and too light, color and feel. But it's organic. Do enjoy the heavy amount of pepper, organic pepper that is. Fuck that, take 2 and pass. 5 oz. bag, $3.

Cease & Desist- the Ari Menthol documentary 7 pm tonight @ Barbes in BK.

If you're in the NYC tonight be sure to make it out to Barbes in Park Slope to check the screening of Cease & Desist a.k.a. Ari can't talk about it directed by John Carluccio, responsible for treats such as Battle Sounds, Scratch and a variety of other documentaries and shorts ranging from hip hop, to art, to food and so on.



Cease & Desist follows the release of the Ari Menthol sneaker, one of the most hyped releases during the sneaker heyday of 2006. The sneakers had a strong likeness to the Nike Air Force 1, with packaging fairly similar to a pack of Newports. The hype grew, kids waited on lines, legal issues ensued and a creative concept turned into a headache for Ari Forman. Carluccio was there at the release and linked up with Ari years later to discuss the legal quagmire brought on by 2 corporate behemoths. Sneakerhead or not, the film touches on general issues ranging from the creative drive to push the envelope, the fickleness of trends, and the power of corporate America.

Here's a little taste:



This screening is part of the Brooklyn Independent Cinema Series.

Barbés
7 pm
376 9th St (at 6th Ave)
Park Slope, Brooklyn
(718) 965-9177

H is for Holy Grail.

The hunt is over. For one pair at least. Still a couple more out there, but the white with safety orange trim from 2001 can be removed from the list. I saw it grazing in a valley and BLABOW!!!- blew it's motherfucking brains out. Nah- never that, because then the white would have stained. Just a little arsenic in the grass. A gentle death.



I loved this "pack" when they dropped back in '01. It's not fair to call them a pack because Nike wasn't branding it that way back then, but they would drop very similar kicks within the same time frame. I had the varsity blue and varsity reds. Never had the orange or the reeds- a khaki colorway. The leather on these is quality, and real leather. Lightly rippled and soft. The mesh lining has extra cushioning and provides more comfort than mostly any other AF1 I've worn. The simplicity is the appeal. No need to be loud. Just keep it cool baby, keep it cool. There was a pair on ebay for a while for close to $140 shipped. I must have watched it for a year until one day it was gone. And I kicked myself for weeks. I spend money on such bullshit, but when something I want is within striking distance I fall back. Makes no fucking sense. I guess the thrill of the hunt is the hunt, so by keeping it alive, I perpetuated the adrenaline rush every time I saw them there. Just a little psychoanalysis from your boy How. So when these appeared on the bay right before the Manifest Destiny trip I copped with the quickness.



They are worn. I admit it, I copped a pair of used kicks. But based on the pics and the price ($40 + shipping) I had to do it. The wear looked minimal, and it definitely was, however there is slight yellowing on the right sneaker. From experience I know this happens, especially to pairs from that era, but the pics looked clorox status. A flash can really be misleading. Whatever, I'm happy I have them and I just need to keep my eyes open for a brand new pair.



The fitted could have gotten top billing, but the kicks have an emotional attachment so they won out. But the hat. Tell me it isn't the flavors. I dare you. The good people at Pegasus- what up Juice and Aubrey- blessed the kid with this joint. Was it made for me? Maybe so, maybe no (cue Mayer Hawthorne now). But it was definitely meant to be rocked by me. Hickory Crawdads in a light brown (amber, caramel, mocha??) with an orange bill and button. Black H with the orange mudbug. I have no clue who created this logo- but I want to marry your daughter. No, seriously. Your genius must have seeped into her so our babies will be brilliant. I saw the design sheet for this months back and was expecting a darker brown, but was pleasantly surprised with this. Never had a cap this color and it matches these wildwoods I have to a T (please see below).



And since 1 isn't enough I had to double up. This time with the alternate jumpoff. Again, buttahfingas.



A claw clenching a baseball. Genius?? Apparently. A simple black and white cap is a necessity when you're trying to keep that swag under control. But hold on. This shit glows in the dark, no Kanye. Doesn't work too well though. Need to have it directly under a light bulb for a good minute just to get some illumination.



We're building a nice little family here. All get along. No snapping claws. Harmony.



See? Matching is so 2010. Get your game up.