I'm not leaving until I've had Reindeer sorbet.

I'm back home after having the distinct pleasure of attending an Akira Kurosawa film festival. Today was a long day but when I'm on my death bed, this day will be remembered as one of the best.

There were only 30 of us or so, crammed into a dimly lit old firehouse that smelled faintly of motor oil and wet concrete...it was awesome. Before the movies started, we ate food prepared by a couple local college kids that are aspiring chefs....dishes containing the likes of Asparagus, bacon, clams, scallops, rice, eggs...it was all good.

In the back, there was a bar of sorts, some local beer and some of the harder stuff. Most people waited in line to order the metro-trendy-euro trash Cosmo or other similarly named fruity drinks desperately trying to fit in with the hip art crowd. I'm not hip, nor am i an art crowd person. I'm a tall, way too skinny white boy from New Jersey that happens to think Kurosawa is one of the greatest film makers of all time...so i tried my best to avoid the Sex in the City crowd and just enjoy myself.

That's when i saw it. On the back of the bar, beautiful and chrome. A french press. Some of us were complaining about the lack of coffee at this get-together but our troubles were solved when i saw the french press. Like a ninja I scampered around the bar, snatching the french press for myself. I asked the "barkeep" if there were any coffee grounds on the premises and after a few minutes of bottle re-arranging under the bar, he hands me this crumpled, stained brown bag full of coffee grounds. Stale or not, i was going to bring coffee to the masses. Coffee makes any and all occasions better...and it doesn't get much better than coffee and Kurosawa.

I fill my cup, find a seat in the back and watch the lights dim and take in the masterpieces that are: Ran, Rashomon, Yojimbo and of course The Seven Samurai.

This is living.