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Today is Keith Jarrett's birthday.  The link below shows both the reason so many think he is a genius, and the reason why others disagree.  All you pianists out there, enjoy.

How many pair of shoes do you have? Out of those pairs, how many do you wear more than a few times a year?
Submitted by fightinggale.

I have two pairs of shoes.  One for work, and one for home.  The work shoes are black Florseim Kenmore wing-tips.

The home shoes are Converse low canvas Chuck Taylor All Stars. 

I'm a retrobilly.

Show us your favorite tool.
Submitted by Maraschino.

Chicago Cutlery 8 Inch Chef's Knife.  The cooking equivalent of a Timex.  Always reliable, easy to hold, easy to sharpen.  I couldn't cook without it.  Best value out there for a decent chef's knife, in my opinion.

I highlighted formance as having a great Vox blog the other day.  There was another blog I thought of highlighting along with formance, but the blogger hadn't posted in quite a while.  Wouldn't you know it, he started blogging right after my post.  ed'sperience is a non-conformist from Singapore.  Right now he is in London.  Take a look at his new postings, and check his archives for some fascinating and original thoughts.  By the way, he wouldn't know me from Adam, so this is a completely blind recommendation.

What fictional character do you relate to most and why?

Mole from Wind In The Willows.  Homebody, occasionally shy, honest, loyal, and able to see the best in others.  Not to mention rotund.

I don't like it, Andy Finston thought to himself.  He stood in the steamy mid-day sun of early July in Philadelphia, pretending to watch as two giraffes loped exhaustedly across their small dirty imitation of the savannah.  Finston was surrounded by the usual zoo crowd of mewling babies, barely controllable toddlers, cataleptic parents and teenage boys calculating around which corner to cop a feel. 

Finston was accustomed to setting the agenda.  So the sudden call from Mr. Nickles had rattled him.  One o'clock.  In front of the giraffes at the zoo.  Bring lots of cash.  Click.  Finston had a vague sense of unease, but no real options.  He had spent months cultivating Nickles, just so this moment would occur.  The moment when Andrew Finston made his bones as more than just a beat reporter for the Daily Chronicle.  He would open the box, and all of Philadelphia's dirty little secrets would fly out.  Nickles was the key.

It was now a quarter past one.  Finston sighed as he raised the disposable camera, and took another meaningless picture.  Did you bring the money?  A sharp rasp of a whisper from the right side.  Finston nodded without looking.  Walk over to the peacock walk.  There's a path into the bushes used by employees to the right side.  Meet me there in ten minutes.

Finston waited five minutes, and then strolled over to the peacock walk.  He doffed his Phillies cap, wiped his brow with his sleeve, and replaced the cap.  God, it's hotter than hell.  There, off to the right, he saw a faded dusty track over a lawn, down a slight incline.  It settled into the bushes.  This was a quiet back area of the zoo, used mostly to skirt the exhibits on the way out.  The few peacocks Finston could see bedraggedly stood silent, with feathers furled.  

Time to make the big time, thought Finston.  He looked around and, seeing no one, strode purposefully down the lawn and through the gap in the bushes.  There was a set of stairs, bordered by rusted railings, leading down to a concrete landing festooned with dumpsters.  Mr Nickles was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.  Jesus, Nickles, what's with the cloak and dagger crap?, asked Finston.  Nickles stood quietly, his hands in his pockets.

As Finston started down the stairs, he was shoved from behind.  His momentum carried him to Nickles's feet.  He tried to stand, but the man behind him slipped a loop over his head, and began to pull, jerking him onto his back.  Nickles watched as Finston gasped and struggled, and then finally went limp.

Sorry, Andy.  You were too close.  Nickles looked at the killer.  He has cash.  Stuff it in his mouth and throw him in a dumpster.  The killer laughed softly.  When the body was found, it would look as if Finston was a dirty reporter who crossed the mob.  Very good, deputy mayor Nickles.  Elegant.

Show us something you love about Mexico.

Mole-poblano

Mexican belongs in the top 5 cuisines of the world.  Not just Tex-Mex, but everything else.  Having said that, I love a great Mole Poblano made the right way.

Show us a mannequin.

  Beware the Autons.

Show us a Vox blog you think more people should know about.
Submitted by TheFiercestCalm.

There are a lot of great blogs in my neighborhood.  The one I am highlighting best fits the criterion implied in the question.  Namely, that it is not well known.  Formance writes very interesting stuff, both on her own blog, and over at 5 word challenge.  She also goes out of her way to encourage others who are engaging in the craft of writing.

Check some of her writing here, at her blog.