All posts by Keith

I consider it a good day if you find yourself in a torn Army green t-shirt, using a badly notched machete to split open a coconut and hand half of it to the scantily clad woman sitting on the beach next to you as you stare out at the waves and listen intently for the sound of war drums drifting from the dense foliage of the jungle behind you.
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Alcohol Professor: American Hotel Bars

Over at my other home on Alcohol Professor, I’m spinning the tale of the rise and fall and rise of the American hotel bar and cocktail culture. Or rather, in Cocktail History: American Hotel Bars, I am writing about “Rediscovering the American Hotel Bar,” a Manhattan Cocktail Classic event in which Rene Hidalgo, head bartender at the Iroquois Hotel’s Lantern’s Keep, recounted the history of hotel bars to us while serving an awful lot of really good illustrative cocktails.

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Sneak Peek: Bond Vivant

So the not-a-secret secret: work here at Teleport City has slowed down because I am writing a book. Building off the Bottled in Bond article I wrote some time back, I have spent the past few months doing research — sometimes at a library, more likely at a cocktail bar — on a more expansive study of James Bond’s drinks, the history behind some of his favorite sprits, and the impact 007 had on drinking culture. Prospectively titled Bond Vivant, I am so far pretty happy with the way it’s going, except for the fitful pace of my progress (that night of research at the Hotel St. Regis’ King Cole Bar really derailed me for a few days). In honor of Ian Fleming’s 106th birthday, I thought I would give readers here, who I hope will be patient with the way the book impacts the frequency of updates on Teleport City, a little sneak peek. It isn’t much — the first (very rough) draft of the introduction — but I hope it helps excuse my absence from Teleport City proper and gets two or three of you interested enough to stay on back about getting this thing finished.

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Deadly Art of Survival

My introduction to New York’s underground film scene came in the form of the “cinema of transgression,” as movement figurehead (eh, more or less) Nick Zedd dubbed it. Specifically, it came in the form of Richard Kern, whose crude, short films and videos were widely circulated on VHS in the late 1980s and early 1990s. It was the work of Kern and Zedd that almost entirely formed my opinion of the movement, because that was basically all you could get. Film Threat magazine had taken an interest in Kern and released a number of his films on VHS. And so when it came to New York’s underground cinema, I knew what he and Zedd had done, which was sloppy, nihilistic, destructive, ridiculous, angry, and absurd. It wasn’t until I moved to New York some years later that I discovered the depth of my ignorance, that Kern, Zedd, and the Cinema of Transgression were the second wave of the New York film underground, that they had grown from a whole group of films and filmmakers who have preceded them in the late 1970s.

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Cultural Gutter: Where is All You Angels?

Back over at The Cultural Gutter for a Frolic Afield. Where is All You Angels? stared out as a jokey celebration of my favorite music video, Duran Duran’s “Wild Boys.” Things quickly spun out of control into an exploration of William S. Burroughs, LGBT rights, the mundanity of queer cinema, dayglo jockstraps, north Florida summers, and what a counter-culture loses when it wins its biggest battle. Also, we try to decipher just what the hell anyone was thinking when they made Arena.

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Alcohol Professor: To Catch Aperitif

My latest Frolic Afield over at Alcohol Professor is To Catch Aperitif, a dizzy account of my efforts at the recent Manhattan Cocktail Classic Industry Invitational to expand my usual area of study beyond the world of whiskey. For me, this meant delving into the bitter, herbal, fruity, and floral world of Italian and Alpine liqueurs, aperitifs, digestifs, and fortified wines in the line-up of importer Haus Alpenz.

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Alcohol Professor: An Urban Bourbon Trail Through History

It’s time for a Kentucky Derby Frolic Afield. I’m back on Alcohol Professor, and in An Urban Bourbon Trail Through History I’m taking y’all on a tour of Louisville’s three most historic hotels: The Brown, The Galt House, and The Seelbach. Or, more accurately, I’m taking you on a tour of their bars. Special guest stars Abraham Lincoln, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and the hot brown.

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Gentlemen’s Blog to Midnite Cinema: Lightning Bolt

Frolicking Afield over at the Gentlemen’s Blog to Midnite Cinema again, the official companion to the Gentlemen’s Guide to Midnite Cinema podcast. And this time I’m talking Antonio Margheriti, James Bond rip-off Eurospy films, and Lightning Bolt, a thriller in which the hero tries to avoid conflict by offering to pay his nemesis off, then asks if it’s OK if he pays by personal check.

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A Walk Around Dominica

The approach to the airport was through a maze of vertical green walls, mountains covered in foliage of the most brilliant green. The runway was short and ended at a river where people were busily tending to their laundry, as unconcerned over the approaching plane as was the air traffic controller, who was reclining on a bench outside the ramshackle terminal building. Dominica is not the Caribbean island you want to come to if you crave white sand beaches, clear turquoise waters, sprawling resort enclaves, or opulent amenities.

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A View from the Road: Crater Lake & Mt. Shasta

Our luck with volcanos had been disappointing. Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Hood, Mt. Rainier — they had all veiled themselves coyly behind a impenetrable curtain of mist and rain and gale force winds that rendered seeing them, let alone hiking them, a fool’s errand. Yet again and again we tried. AT Crater Lake we expected finally to be rewarded for our perseverance. It was sunny and 70 degrees when we began the winding ascent up to the lake itself. It was 25, snowy, and covered in fog when we reached the top. Turned away by closed roads and regretful park rangers, we descended the mountain, and found once again at the base it was a gorgeous day, the sky dappled with dramatic clouds and slants of warming orange sunlight.

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He’s Not Iron Man

Tony Stark’s most famous suit is red and yellow and made of metal. Outside of that, the Stark of the Marvel Iron Man and Avengers movies dresses like a lot of modern tech billionaires: jeans and t-shirts. He has an affinity it seems also for wearing Under Armor as regular clothing, but we’ll not breach that subject for the moment. While Tony may have the tech industry billionaire’s casual disdain of the for dressing up, his hard-working foil in Iron Man 3, Guy Pearce’s Aldrich Killian, is not afforded the luxury of slovenliness.

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