Deliberate Flaws

CL and I did our usual wine bar thing last night - but this time we tried out one of FT's new places in the lower east side, Solex (1st avenue, between 6th and 7th).

My review of the joint: LOVELY and GORGEOUS and might even be a reason for me to trek to that part of town more frequently. I especially liked the gorgeous stools which were, admittedly, a bit high. But that made it an adventure to jump off and hop back on. It took several tries for me to do so gracefully, and to stop merely TUMBLING off the stool because the ground was farther away than I thought.

FT graciously left his brand spanking new Soho bar to join us at Solex. He told us that he's been getting "hate" mail because of the stools! But he believes strongly that every place should have a slight flaw built in, because perfection is sterile.

And that reminded me of a quote (as most things do, apparently) that only things made by God are perfect. There is a class of gifted old Italian furniture makers - artisans in the true sense of the word - who deliberately add a single flaw to everything they create, in order to avoid hubris and to show appropriate respect.

On another note, CL reminded me that our first sex-ed class was in FIFTH grade, not third. And that Mr. D not only made us all say "penis" and "vagina," but also spent one class with a maxipad stuck to his shirt. Not sure about the rational for that.

I find it intensely amusing that CL and I are now friends. CL was one of the "cool" boys in school while I was a freak and refused to talk to anyone who wasn't studying classical music. I don't believe we exchanged a single word when we were growing up. But I do remember one time in fifth grade when I kicked CL hard in the shins (I have no recollection of WHY) and CL replied by punching me in the gut. He adamantly denies this however.