Author Archives: Kyle Kimberlin

no more rooms?

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Since January 2007, the Guardian has published a series of photos and personal commentary “Portraits of the spaces where authors create,” called Writers’ Rooms.

The series seems to have come to a whimpering end. The most recent installment was added July 18, with the portrait of a musician’s room.

That there is no note on the Guardian’s site about the end of the series, or on a summer holiday hiatus, etc., may speak to a yawning lack of professionalism as much as a deliberate conclusion. Even those of us who publish personal blogs would mention if we planned to take a longer-than-usual break. That a major paper wouldn’t bother is simply sad.

Still, I have enjoyed and appreciated the series as an entertaining glimpse into the personal lives of my fellow artists. It was a good idea, generally well executed, and a bit of fun with my coffee on Saturday mornings. … Cheers.

Firefox Ready

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“Are you a Firefox user? Apparently, if you are you’re not alone. Sometime this year when I wasn’t paying attention Firefox rocketed to a new high. For over three years I watched as Firefox hovered between a 30–34% browser share. This month I was surprised to see that Firefox consistently exceeds 40% and is preparing to take over IE as the most popular browser.”

— Bits from Bill: Firefox Ready to be the #1 Browser.

I like Firefox, and I’ve been using it for quite a while. But it’s rise in competition with Explorer surprises me. I wouldn’t have thought that so many people were going out of their way to download an alternative to the browser that comes bundled with their operating system. Adding an alternative browser isn’t hard to do, but it’s something.

word spillage

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Poetry is the overflowing of the Soul.

– Henry Theodore Tuckerman

Well, that’s a nice thought, delicate and succinct. But it’s not really like that for me. Sometimes it’s been a bit of an overflowing of the emotions, but rarely. Mostly, it’s been an excavation of the mind. The soul shows up to consult on paleontology.

mud mud more mud mixed with blood

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Harry Patch, Britain’s last survivor of the trenches of World War I, was a reluctant soldier who became a powerful eyewitness to the horror of war, and a symbol of a lost generation.

Patch, who died Saturday at 111, was wounded in 1917 in the Battle of Passchendaele, which he remembered as ‘mud, mud and more mud mixed together with blood.’

The Associated Press: Last UK veteran of WWI trench battles dies at 111.

Is Michael Jackson still dead? I imagine so, though for some time now I’ve been changing the channel every time I hear his name or see his image. Not because I’m indifferent to his death, but because the sideshow that followed it became obscene. There is much that we are losing every day. There are many that are passing from life. To linger over one so leeringly is vapid and tawdry.

Here was a hero, Harry Patch. I commend to you his obituary. He fought, he suffered, he told the truth, and lived out the rest of his life with wisdom and in peace. There is a very great deal we can learn from that. Not the least of which is that a simple life can be lived greatly, and that we as a society have a bizarre sense of celebrity in death. If anyone’s passing should be marked by great crowds in public arenas … well, you get my point.

speaking of coffee

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Something is wrong with the coffee, gentle readers. Terribly wrong, with all of it. Coffee doesn’t smell like itself anymore. It has no flavor. I used to like opening a can of coffee and taking a nice, long sniff. It smelled wonderful. Not anymore. No matter where I go for it, or if I brew it here at home, it’s the same. It’s bland, it tastes like hot water with sweetener and milk. It must be a communist plot.

Surely I can’t be alone in this grave, portentious observation, right?

If you’re looking for a cup of coffee here in Carpinteria, my home town, I’m afraid your options are limited. You want to avoid the Starbucks on Casitas Pass Road. Just stay away. Although once you get inside, you’ll find a nicely remodled store and the coffee is fine (bland, but fine), and the service is good, the space around it simply sucks. You have to brave a gauntlet of people smoking at the tables just outside the door. And if you sit at one of the few outside tables, you’ll find yourself seated in a large and bushy ashtray. Seriously, the area around this place is disgusting, dirty, and unkept. It is never swept or hosed down at all. No pride. And the inside is only nice because it’s new; the interior reflects what I presume to be a Starbucks trend of trying to keep their customers moving. There are only a few places to sit; most of the tables were removed and the barristas’ work area greatly enlarged. This is not a coffeehouse where a writer can set his cup of drip beside his laptop and get a little work done. I don’t think Starbucks loves writers anymore at all.

There is a Coffee Bean at the corner of Linden and Carpinteria Avenue, and it’s nice enough. Good service, decent bland coffee. But again, there are problems. Parking is the first you’ll notice. This store has no parking lot. There is a public lot behind the block, but it’s not very close. Kind of a pain. Worse, there are not nearly enough tables and chairs for the clientele. I’d guess about 4 small tables inside, and about the same outside. Another coffeehouse that doesn’t want its customers dawdling. I’d give it a pass.

On Casitas Pass Road near the Blockbuster and Subway, there’s a little coffee place called Caje. The coffee is really good, for organic bland stuff. There’s wi-fi. There’s one sofa and one table, I believe.

What is it with this town? They don’t want their customers hanging around, talking with friends, doing some work, buying another cup?

In short, skip Carpinteria for coffee. Head on in to Montecito or Santa Barbara for your cup of joe. More on the opportunities there in a later post.

the fur flies

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I was standing in line at my yokel Starbucks the other day. It was busier than usual – the weekend – and they were getting orders from people in line, to stay ahead of the rush. I had already ordered my tall drip, simple house coffee guy that I am. I heard the barrista take an order from the guy behind me, then ask, “service dog, sir?”

“Excuse me?” the guy answered.
“Is this a service dog, sir? Because otherwise we really don’t allow …”
“Yeah, the dog is serving me.”

I glanced back and saw the guy had a little dog on a leash, in the coffeehouse. Looked like a poodle mix to me. Which is illegal in California; you can’t take a dog in a place that serves food, unless it is a service dog, such as a guide dog for a blind person. And if that little white fuzzball was a service dog, I’m a giraffe in a tutu. Still, I kind of admired the doofus for keeping his dog with him, not tying it up outside or something. Pets are family. And I see no rational reason not to allow such a dog in a coffeehouse.

I predict things may change, that we’ll see more and more pet-friendly businesses. I hope so. Here’s a story from today’s paper, about a pets-only airline. No joke.

“The pet-only airline launched its inaugural flights last week to much fanfare among animal lovers who share Wiesel’s distaste for sending a cherished pet into the underbelly of a jetliner.” [Los Angeles Times]

cool audio slideshow

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I’ve been enjoying Eamonn McCabe’s photos of writers’ rooms in the Guardian for several months now. So I was very pleased to find this audio slideshow, in which he discusses what he has learned from the process.

“I have always enjoyed photographing loners. When I was covering sport it was boxers in their gyms. Now I’m older, I enjoy photographing writers, poets and artists. The one thing they all have in common is that they work alone.”