Bring Your Tambourine

This party is going to be ridiculous. Nicky Siano is a genius behind the turntables because he puts the focus on creating a celebratory vibe. If this means playing a track released two days or twenty years ago...it doesn't matter.

He is one of those DJs who you can tell it almost pains him to be in the booth rather than on the dancefloor.

Spring In October

I spent a good deal of my Saturday doing some deep cleaning in my apartment. I swear there is no better feeling than going to sleep in a freshly made bed and knowing that when you wake up everything will still be sparkling.

The sad part of this process is getting rid of magazines that have not been fully gleaned of their aesthetic or thought-provoking content. Anyone have any contacts in the
being-horizontal-in-bed-and-reading-periodicals industry? I need a job

Middle Of The Night Thought

The other night when the daily stress of existence kept me awake I had the following thought.

"Never be ashamed of your struggle"

Despite appearances otherwise...absolutely everyone has struggles in their lives. I am the first to admit that I frequently believe that others are livin' on "easy street" while I am facing difficulties (some recent, some that feel like they have been with me since birth). This is simply not true. The Universe has given each and every one of us challenges that we are to face throughout our lifetime. One should never be ashamed of the challenges that are faced.

When you think that your difficulties are insurmountable think about this guy.

Getting Back To Sanity

One of the downsides of my current job is my lack of free time. When I get home in the evening I have to eat immediately so that my food is digested before my ridiculously early bedtime.

Consequently one of the areas of my life that has taken a hit is my voracious desire for reading. In attempt to get back on track I made a special trip to my local library to pick up this book. Carol recommended it to me last weekend over brunch.

Due lack of non-stop input, my hatred of Republicans has hit an all time low. Hopefully this book will raise my blood pressure and my righteous indignation over the state of this country.

Alternate Realities Are Also Good

The other day I received an autumn/halloween/thanksgiving greeting card from my Aunt Shirley in Nebraska. I believe she has always had a poetic streak in her and it really comes alive in topics close to her heart.

In this particular card she describes what is going on while she is writing the card to me. She describes the smell of the pot roast she has put in the oven, the look of the grains being harvested outside her window and the work being done by her husband and grown sun.

She describes a world that is completely different from my day-to-day existence. It is a world that through her talent makes me wish was my world.

Although I know that "the grass is always greener..." sometimes I wonder if a "simpler" life away from all the "sophistication" of life in New York truly is better.

The Uniqueness Of The Fashion Industry

On my way to the gym today I walked passed the Jill Stuart and John Varvatos boutiques in Soho. Both stores featured this album cover in their window displays. Obviously Miss Harry is getting her revenge for this album being all but ignored when it was released twenty-some-odd years ago.

Hit In The Head

Reality has hit me in the face today. I have been forced to face the fact that I pretty much cannot drink alcohol anymore.

Fortunately this conclusion is not due to the excess drinking and irresponsible behavior that has definitely been part of my past. The fact is that the hangover absolutely kills me regardless of the intake.

Last night, over the course of about six hours, I had two dirty martinis chez nous, then one beer at Jameson's pumpkin carving party. Years ago this amount of alcohol would have been consumed at breakfast, now even this amount has devastated me with a pounding headache. When will I learn that my body does not like toxins.

"The Ocean Still Exists"

With one week left to go to during summer, I got out to Brighton Beach for the first time yesterday. Last year I pretty much went every week but this year due to overwork I have not made it out once.

Sunday was such a gorgeous day and I cannot relay how blissful it was to merely walk and have the waves gently cross my feet. The stress melted away. My mind, body, and spirit were "there". I was not thinking about all the crap I have dealt with at work lately, nor the crap I had to deal with at work the following day.

The stress reappeared at 2 in the morning as I was trying to sleep. Once I begin thinking of the stress it takes over my thoughts and I am unable to return to slumber. In the middle of my insomnia I felt like I was betraying the serenity I had experienced earlier in the day. It felt like my soul needed to be back in the water while my body was tossing and turning. In a vain attempt to defend myself against the stressful thoughts I began repeating over and over in my head "The ocean still exists", "The ocean still exists"...I reminded myself that I may not be at the beach now and I may have to deal with a ton of turmoil before I return seaside but "The ocean still exists" "The ocean still exists".

Reward

Because I have been working so damn much, I rewarded myself with some new running shoes. In addition to replacing my old Air Max Motos which have served me well, I hope these new joints serve as a talisman for a new regimen on the treadmills and streets of The NYC. Plus they make me run real fast and the color scheme makes my legs look 17% less pasty! Thank you Chinese laborers...

Gone But Not Forgotten

Sadly it is Sept. 17th and this is the first chance I have had to post since August 13th. Unfortunately this is my first day completely off from work since that date. I have my phone turned off and am not responding to a single work-related activity.

Every night before I go to bed I think about all the stuff I need to be writing down in this arena. As the potential postings pile up my motivation goes down. So much to say/vent but so little time to do so, plus sometimes I feel that venting just reminds me of the stress that I am trying to get out of my system. Bottling it up sometimes just makes economical sense. Alas, that is not a viable long-term option, so I will attempt piecemeal blog/venting bursts...

In-Stinks

I am definitely one of those people who "follow their gut". You can present me with any form of logical data, but if my gut or my heart (or whatever internal organ is in charge of my instincts) says the complete opposite, logic is useless.

My feeling is that you have to be true to what your intsincts are guiding you toward. On paper this sounds great, but what happens when your instincts are wrong. Recently I have had more than a few instances where I went with my instincts and my instincts failed me. What does one do in these situations? Do I abandon my gut and make decisions solely based on what a normal rational person would do...thereby ignoring that "feeling" that I get when I need to make a decision...

Local Icon Is Nice

The other day at work the legendary Lynn Yaeger stopped in. She was working her look. When I told her that I was a fan of her writing, she was adorably sincere...which made her more fucking awesome in my book.

Let Things "Be"

While I am on the topic of shoes...I am not sure how I feel about these joints.

My devotion to Vans is unwavering, and I hope to someday afford some cashmere from
Lucien Pellat-Finet, but I am really getting tired of these collaborations. They just seem very "forced", and it reinforces the idea that unless something is custom-made or limited-edition then it is not "special".

How about putting simple things on a pedestal for a change

Having Your Cake And Eating It Too (Corporate Edition)

I just came across these shoes when passing Blades at the corner of Broadway and Bond St. No, your eyes are not deceiving you...Nike, the company that has taken the veneration of the athlete to new heights, is now producing shoes for skateboarders that say "Jocks Suck".

I guess Nike has had a change of heart and has realized that the millions of dollars of footwear they have sold over the past couple of decades have been to people that in their own words "Suck".

...I love the idea of a teenager buying these shoes and thinking they are being rebellious. Truly, there is no better way to "stick it to the man!" than by purchasing shoes from Nike.

Realization

I just realized that it has been a month since I last "published" anything...and I only had a single post in June. Damn, that is simply ridiculous. The new job is taking up tons of my time and there have been countless other diversions to take me away from my blogging duties.

I am promising myself to make a return to the real world very, very soon.

Relentless Input

Vince Aletti came into work today and of course I had to corner him and ask him his top DJs of all time. Unsuprisingly he said number one was Larry Levan and number two was David Mancuso.

Thankfully, he showed much love when I revealed Frankie Knuckles as my top choice....in fact he stated that Frankie is one of the only current DJs he would go out to hear.

Inches Away From Flashback

This afternoon I was walking around the corner to the grocery store at the corner of LaGuardia and Bleecker. In between the store and the street there is a community garden that is maybe thirty feet by one hundred feet.

Who knows how many times I have passed this garden in the eight years I have lived in the neighborhood? Due to the nine foot chainlink fence that surrounds the garden, it is kind of visual "off-limits" area. I guess I have noticed the occaisional person tending the flowers inside the high-security fence, but it never really registered with my brain that it was an actual garden. My only analogy for my mental block is that you can be aware that there is a cobbler on your street...but if you never need your shoes repaired that fact is going to fade into the background of your consciousness.

Today as I was about to enter the grocery store there was an announcement posted on a pole informing the public that today there was a "celebration" for the 25th anniversary of the garden. That the garden had been around that long must have shocked my consciousness...and considering the fact that I didn't have any other commitments I decided to investigate this celebration.

I walked around the fence of the garden to find the gate that was allowing the general public to enter. As I walked through the gate I was instantly mesmerized by the beauty of the plants and flowers. I was also instantly shocked that five seconds earlier and five feet from where I was currently standing I was unaware of the beauty that delightfully assaulted my eyes. This gorgeous oasis had been shielded from me by an industrial grade fence.

As I was walked amongst the flowers I was transported back many years to the countless hours I had spent with my mom amidst the flower beds surrounding our house and in the greenhouses of Lincoln which we would frequent in the spring and summer.

Because of this exposure I probably knew more plant and flower names than all of my fourth grade classmates combined. Suprisingly this knowlege did not translate to instant respect on the playground....rarely did any of my peers take me aside to ask me the proper sunlight and hydration needs of the Dusty Miller.

As with most things I am exposed to in my life I developed strong opinions about the the plant kingdom. To this day my mom still brings up my rabid hatred of Hollyhocks. Some things never change and it was refreshing to be exposed to such beauty that had escaped my field of consciousness.

Mental Reinforcement

The Quote Of The Day is from my boy Joseph Campbell.

“We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. The old skin has to be shed before the new one can come.”

Please Tell Me This Is The Shape Of The Future...

Yesterday we did a practice run at the new restaurant. We opened the doors to a few customers and tried to work out some of "the kinks" before our official opening day next week.

Due to some electrical and logistical issues it was a really rough day for most of the employees (myself included). At the the day one of the owners individually approached every employee, from the porters to the management team, and offered a sincere "Thank You" for helping out under not ideal conditions.

While this probably did not really raise an eyebrow amidst the other employees, I had the hugest grin on my face and warmth in my heart. Instantly I was reminded that over the 38 months at my previous job, my former boss gave me a "Thank You" only 3 times...I am not making that figure up...I literally kept track of the 3 instances he said these words of appreciation.

Starting a new job is always stressful, but these two words made all the difference in my attitude regarding this past week.

Fruit Virgin

I often proclaim to love fruit. While this statement is true, I must add that not all fruit is created equal in my mind. Give me a ripe banana or an apple and I am satisfied. While I have nothing against the taste of oranges, I rarely eat them. As an example of the embarrassingly carefree adulthood I live, I don't eat many oranges because in my mind it takes far too long to peel.

The sane reader will note that it can't conceivably take more than minute to peel an orange, while this is literally true, in my mind when I want to enjoy a piece of fruit I want to enjoy it this very second, and a minute seems like a lifetime.

The other day I was at the grocery store and had a craving for an orange and proceeded to purchase one. On the way home I mentally psyched myself for the arduous task of peeling that was in my immediate future.

Without any hyperbole I can state that it was absolutely the best orange I have tasted in my entire life. It felt as if every previous orange I had eaten had been a scam, a farce, an insult to my tastebuds. In short I sensed that I had only then tasted what an orange was meant to taste like.

Of course, when I returned to the same grocery the following day to procure more of these delicacies I was rewarded with the taste of a bland generic orange. Thank you Universe for crushing my spirit in one fell swoop.

Envy Or Pity?

Should people be envious or piteous of me when I mention that Jeff Goldblum was working out at my gym?

Up Is Down...Left Is Right...Black Is White

It seems as though I have fallen "through the looking glass" when today I discovered a Republican with actual common sense. Texas representative Ron Paul gave this speech and it is an absolute "must read" for anyone who wants to cut throught the bullshit of the Bush foreign policy on Iran.

One of the simplest, but most important points he makes is that the neocons in charge of the policy are not going to make any sacrifice for it's completion or "success". Anyone who has been within earshot of me over the past four years has heard my fundamental statement that you cannot claim to be for or support any military action unless you are willing to say that the war is so important that you would allow the person you love most to die for it. It is completely easy to say "Oh, I would die for my freedom, liberty, or American way" (knowing full-well that you will never have to follow through on such a commitment) but could you honestly say that the cause of freedom, liberty or the American way is so important that you would permit your husband, mother, or daughter to die for this foreign policy.

Every one of the more than 2300 soldiers that have died in Iraq was the most beloved person in someone's life.

Back To The Future

The new issue of My Comrade is out and it is awesome!

This magazine is everything New York should be/was/will be...sexy, dirty, classy, faggy, and funny as hell.

Stop by St. Mark's and pick it up, order it to be mailed...whatever you have to do to get it.

You Know Where To Find Me...

The word on the street is that Shelter is moving its legendary Saturday night/ Sunday morning party from 39th St. to 150 Varick St.

Why is this important?

Well it means that the party will be about ten blocks from my apartment. Therefore I will be able to wake up on Sunday morning hit the dancefloor until about 9:15 a.m. and still have time to make it to work on time.

It is on.

Balancing

During the drama of my knee injury a couple of years ago I learned a valuable lesson about human anatomy. When an injury occurs, muscles that are not performing as normal are oftentimes overcompensated by uninjured muscles. If you are walking with a limp, the strong leg gets stronger due to an increased workload, while the weak leg gets weaker because less is required of it. While this is perfectly fine in the short-term, if the injury is prolonged it can screw you up in the long run because your body is out of balance.

A lot of my physical therapy was focused on strengthening the weak leg in an attempt to get both legs "equal" in strength, thereby bringing balance back.

Recently I have been using one of these balance pads while working out. They are totally great because they slightly destabilize your body. In destabilizing your body your muscles are forced to compensate thereby strengthening those muscles that are taxed.

While building muscle strength is great, for me the greater benefit is simply feeling more stabile in my lower body...especially helpful in dodging taxi cabs and slow-assed pedestrians.

In The Center Of An Energy Vortex

Because I had some business in midtown this morning I decided to kill two birds with one stone and go to the gym at 34th and Sixth Ave.

While the gym itself was tiny and lacking in some equipment. It did have one advantage to it. It was located on the 25th floor...thereby allowing near panoramic views of the city from an outdoor deck. The view was so enthralling that it made the drudgery of exercise almost vanish...

More Random Stuff About Me

1. I was a Cub Scout for one year.
2. On the rare occaision I eat a Ritz cracker I am immediately transported back to sunday school at age six.
3. I was in the fifth grade when I got into my first fight...with a classmate named (I kid you not) Melvin Mudd.
4. I have blown a bubblegum bubble once in my life and have been unable to repeat this feat since.
5. I used to have my ears pierced.
6. I was 18 years old when I first travelled on an airplane.
7. In the fifth grade I won a gold medal in the "Reading-O-Lympics"
8. I have never worn anything that could remotely be described as "acid-washed"
9. I love roller coasters.
10. I have a one inch scar on my forehead from falling down on our porch as a child.

KRS-ONE Lyric Of The Day

I'll get a pen,
a pencil,
a marker
mainly what I write is for the average New Yorker

Back?

I just realized that I have only posted to items in the month of March. There are a multitude of reasons for this related to motivation levels, extraneous stress and activity levels but in all honesty one of the biggest factors has been the retrograde motion of the planet Mercury.

Anyone who has spent more than five minutes with me in the past decade and a half knows that I am perpetually referring to this astrological principle. Some may see it as a crutch or a self-fulfilling prophecy, but to me it boils down to the indisputable fact that during these periods I (and most people) are not thinking clearly...which of course causes a decrease in communication skills and an increase in stress.

That being said, Mercury goes direct this Saturday morning at 8:42 a.m. and I, therefore, no longer have an astrological excuse for my behavior. Damn!

[Astrology]

Some Things That Never Fail To Make Me Smile...

Watching Strangers With Candy...Completing a Times crossword puzzle...Thinking of my nephew Cody's excuse for falling out of bed around age five ("The window was open and the wind blew me off the bed")....Saying "Ladies and gentlemen" in the style of a drunken Kiki DuRane...When suburban white kids use black slang...the distinctive sound of my friend Natalie's laugh...Mikey Semrad's channelling of Cobra-era Sylvester Stallone.

Cause And Effect

During the summer of 1989, I paid a visit to my older sister's house in Sacramento. Ann had moved to California about eight years before. This was my first time visiting her without any other family member around, so I was basking in a situation that let me have her full attention.

At some point during my vacation, Ann decided we should drive up to Lake Tahoe. Before we left the city we packed some snacks and bought some beverages to tide us over on our day-trip adventure.

We began to ascend the mountains surrounding Tahoe when traffic came to a near standstill. Road construction...the bane of the summer driver across the nation. It was a particularly hot day and we had yet to reach altitudes necessary for a cooling off of temperatures.

As we crept along the road, we slowly approached a worker holding a caution sign. As we neared him, my sister told me to reach in the cooler and offer him a bottle of water. In my head I was thinking she was crazy..."This is our water..it's hot, and you want me to give it to a complete stranger?!"

While mentally I was complaining about sacrificing a precious, precious liquid, in actuality I was just nervous about interacting (albeit in a completely benevolent fashion) with a stranger. At the age of twenty my shyness hung around me like an albatross. This was diametrically opposite of my sister who was and still is extremely deliciously extroverted.

Perhaps she could read my apprehension. "Just give it to him" she quietly commanded.

I lowered the window and passed the bottle to the slightly startled worker. "Thanks" he responded politely as we slowly moved forward.

In an instant my consciousness was beautifully rattled. That was soooo awesome. It felt liberating to just do a nice thing for an absolute stranger who would never ever return the favor. In that moment I learned more about the concept of karma, than if I had memorized the entire Bhagavad-Gita.

So, why do I bring this up? Now, obviously it shows how awesome my sister is and what an impact she has had on my life...I mean I am relaying a story of giving a bottle of water to a stranger almost twenty years after the fact. Lately I have been thinking about the subtle quiet ways that we can make an impact on our fellow humans.

While making withdrawls from my memory bank I recalled someone who had made a similar impact on my worldview...

Growing up my family attended Havelock Christian Church. We went every Sunday, and with my mom teaching Sunday School and my dad serving as an elder and board member, I guess you could say that we were pretty involved in the workings of the church.

The person who I most closely associate with the church was not even a member. His name was Mr. Rice and my memories of are from when I was probably five to seven years old.

Mr. Rice was in his early nineties at the time. He seemed very frail, as if you could just see that he had led a difficult life in the way he moved his body.

Every Sunday in our Sunday School classroom the teacher would take donations from the students. Although the weekly total may have never exceeded a dollar or two, it was a cute way to make the kids feel involved in making a contribution to the church by way of a nickel or dime that their parents had given them before class.

Probably about once a month Mr. Rice would show up at our classroom and, as we gathered our coins, he would add in a couple of quarters, which never failed to astound the easily impressed youngsters. His contribution would dramatically increase our donation total, much to our pleasure. He would stand amongst us, make a minute or two of small-talk with the teacher and then move on to a couple of the other classrooms to make similar donations. He would then leave the building, walking to his nearby home before the regular Sunday service began.

Even at such a young age I could tell that Mr. Rice was not very financially well off. The decades-old suit was a visual cue, but there was also a humility in the way that he carried himself that alluded to it as well. There was the unspoken joy that was expressed in his mannerisms when he dropped his small contribution in our collection plate. There was the way that he quickly exited the building before the service, as if because he could not afford the latest fashions or have a nice automobile in the church parking lot, he did not deserve to be in a house of God.

The quietness of his generosity spoke louder to me than any sermon I heard within the confines of that building. My worldview was permanently altered by seeing his demonstration of altruism. A kindness that was not motivated by a desire for a spotlight or recognition but out of pure selflessness.

Easy Theory Leading To Bliss

I guess there is now a simple formula leading one to happiness. If someone contributes content to NPR, then they write a book, that book is going to be awesome.

The latest proof of this simple equation is the most recent book by David Rakoff. Like his co-horts David Sedaris, Sarah Vowell, et al. Rakoff is unimaginably funny. He is able to meld social observation and personal revelation in a consistently witty fashion.

These essays are great because Rakoff takes very simple yet unique scenarios and then puts a comic twist on them. For example he attends a three day seminar sponsored by the Alcor Corporation. The seminar is set up to "sell" cyrogenic freezing to the public. I will not divulge Rakoff's bon mots on this topic except to say that he casually exposes the folly of anyone hoping to be reanimated in the far-distance future.

Anything Is Possible...

My girl Jody called from DC today. She believes that we used to work with one of the Powerball winners. I think she may be grasping at straws in order to get some of the loot...but then again most of my memories of Nebraska are clouded by an alcohol-induced fog, so she may be right.

Manifestation

Getting ready to go out to dinner with Brian, Carol and Calla. I unpack my suit and begin to get dressed. Then I realize that I forgot to pack my cufflinks. I ask Brian if he has a pair to spare and unfortunately he doesn't. Damn French people, why can't they put a god-forsaken button at the end of the damn sleeve.

How in the hell am I going to secure the cuff. My crackpot mind tells me that if I had a paperclip I could jerry-rig a "cufflink". Can I get more ghetto? By chance, Calla has some blue paperclips...hey, blue shirt...blue paperclips...I am definitely on the right track. They didn't teach this guerilla fashion technique in the Lincoln Public School system I can tell you that....

In my typical "life gives you lemons, make lemonade" mindset, I convince myself that I will single-handedly make the paperclip the hot fashion accessory for Spring 2006....

Three days later I am back in New York. I am walking east on Prince St. when I look up from the sidewalk to see a faggy twenty-something walk toward me. His belt buckle is a 3x4 inch piece of sterling silver in the shape of....you guessed it, a paperclip. How did this child cross the space-time continuum and steal my idea?...Is it possible to just set up an account with the U.S. patent office and just shoot them an e-mail everytime I have a brilliant idea?

If Only I Could Make This Up...

So while compiling anecdotes for my book on the complete insanity of my current job...the Universe drops in my lap this overheard comment from my boss:

"...that's why I don't trust people who come in here and offer common sense advice...to me this is a business that is not run by common sense."

True

One of my favorite films is Bruce Weber's "A Letter To True". If you have not seen it, it is an interesting melange of documentary footage, story fragments and seemingly unrelated topics. In short, it is "all over the place" and that is one of the reasons that I love it. It mirrors my own scatter-shot thought process.

There is one segment that always shakes me up emotionally. It is footage of Martin Luther King Jr. giving a speech...here are some of his words:

....Every now and then I think about my own death, and I think about my own funeral. And I don't think of it in a morbid sense. Every now and then I ask myself, "What is it that I would want said?" And I leave the word to you this morning....I'd like somebody to mention that day, that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to give his life serving others. I'd like for somebody to say that day, that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to love somebody. I want you to say that day, that I tried to be right on the war question. I want you to be able to say that day, that I did try, in my life, to clothe those who were naked. I want you to say, on that day, that I did try, in my life, to visit those who were in prison. I want you to say that I tried to love and serve humanity.Yes, if you want to say that I was a drum major, say that I was a drum major for justice; say that I was a drum major for peace; I was a drum major for righteousness.

The footage is even more powerful...which is saying something considering just reading the text makes me tear up. It blows me away that such simple words and concepts can set such an empoweringly high standard for living. A standard that I often fail at.

Prepare For Future Illness

Just watch this clip from newly ordained minority leader John Boehner and I think you will see the talking point that the Republicans are going to use in November midterm elections.

Basically, I predict that the Republicans are going to try to sell the American public the idea that, although Iraq appears to be a catastrophe...now, in some undefined future the project will be a success and will be worth all of the sacrifice we have to endure currently. Now, let's disregard the fact that Bush has not asked the American public as a whole to make a single sacrifice for this debacle, that's the Machiavellian beauty of this political strategy....You sell the electorate the idea that their sacrifice (praying for the American combatants, slapping a Chinese made "support the troops" ribbon on their SUV, etc.) is actually a "gift" to future generations. Everybody gets to feel that they are a part of "struggle against tyranny" without any effort at all.

Now every generation gets to be the "Greatest Generation" without expending any energy.

I still have not figured out how the Republicans are going to market our record budget deficit as beneficial, but I trust Karl Rove has. I will let you know when my tea leaves reveal this bit of insanity.

Three Second Audience With The King

Last Friday I was walking up First Avenue. Around Sixth Street I looked up and walking towards me was none other than Elvis Costello and his wife Diana Krall. Of course I played it cool and did not acknowledge his celebrity. Inside, I must admit, my heart did begin racing a bit.

Although I have not followed his career over the past few years, Elvis Costello will always hold a very special place in my heart. Imperial Bedroom is in my top ten of all-time favorite albums. I swear when I was a sophmore in high school I listened to that album everyday before I went to school. On many occaisions I was almost late for class as I wanted to hear certain songs again and again. It had the perfect blend of bitterness and wit.

In an early interview Costello said that his only motivations were revenge and guilt. While it is understandable that those were similar instincts to me at age 15...is it wrong if those motivations still appeal to me?

Elvis Costello

Past And Present...Together

It must have been the Christmas of 1977. Someone in my family received "The Book of Lists" as a Christmas present. The book was a catalog of completely random trivia. Despite being a mere lad, I fell instantly in love with the arcane information that the book presented. Without this book it is doubtful that I would have known that a flock of crows can accurately be described as a "murder of crows"...and was I the only 4th grader that needed to know that Judy Garland's birth name was Frances Gumm?

In the intervening years I have amassed a vast storehouse of certifiably useless trivia. Because of that, reading Jim Hodgman's "The Areas of My Expertise" was even more pleasurable. Hodgman, now a "resident expert" on The Daily Show, creates a fictional body of knowledge that is so funny, several times I was literally in tears. I challenge anyone to read his list of 700 Hobo Names without needing to take a break to regain their composure.

This is easily the most laugh-outloud book I have read since the David Sedaris Era began.

Jim Hodgman

Perspectivizing

Yesterday I stopped by the Ricky's on Broadway and Houston to pick up some shampoo. While looking over their selection I came across this bottle. No, you are not reading the info on the website incorrectly that is $50 for an eight ounce bottle of shampoo...and if you look at the list of ingredients you will notice that the precious white truffle oil is not even listed.

When I saw this bottle in store I was uncharacteristically outraged at the price (although outrage is definitely a characteristic in most non-shampoo related matters). I mean come on, are there really that many people that literally have money to waste. Apparently in Manhattan the answer is "Yes!"

Now, truth be told, I must admit that in the not so distant past I have overpaid for beauty products based on the miracles that are promised in the packaging copy. But hey, I am in customer service...I have to look good at all times. My public demands it.

When I got home I had to check out the Philip B. website to make sure that some rogue associate at Ricky's did not mislabel the product. Nope, fifty dollars was correct. Then my cynical nature kicked in...maybe this is not even the most expensive shampoo. In less than a minute the good folks at google directed me to this. Yes, this one is $66 dollars for 10.1 ounces.

Because I couldn't drop the topic right there, the voices in my head forced me to calculate the cost per ounce. Philip B. clocks in at $6.25 per ounce with Alterna posting $6.54 per ounce.

Now clearly this is ridiculous, and I am justifiably filled with some bizarre version of righteous indignation. But then I began to think about the number of times that I have bought shots of rare scotch that, trust me, would have been a steal at $6.54 per ounce...and that the scotch is going to annihilate liver and brain cells without giving my hair the lustrous sheen it so clearly deserves.

I guess it all depends on how you want to waste your money.

One City's Trash...

As someone who spent a great deal of his childhood in Salvation Army and Goodwill thrift stores, and as an adult who has items in his home that are literally found on the street, it should come as no surprise that I am currently enamored with this site.

Now I can scavenge the detrius of my fair city from the comfort of my own home. I love the 21st century.

Glutton For Punishment

Despite my continuing ever-morphing illness I got my ass to the gym today. That should be enough punishment for the day, but as I get on the treadmill I noticed that the President's press conference was on. My better judgment said I should switch the channel, but because I do have a masochistic side to my personality I decided to watch.

After five years in office what else can be said about this guy. The lies and the "folksiness" are so forced that I can't possibly fathom how even his most ardent supporters can't see through his condescension.

Back in the day Jesse Jackson had a quote in reference to presidential candidate Gary Hart. Jackson said "Gary Hart has a superiority complex...without the superiority". Just substitute the name Bush for Gary Hart and you have my opinion on our current president.

I swear, if Bush had been born with the same personality and mannerisms, but without the Bush name or money or privilege, you would find him at the bar at TGIFridays trying to impress his buddies from OfficeMax over a platter of jalepeno poppers.

Unfortunately fate would not be so just...

The Message

"Maybe he's asleep or something..."

"He just said his name and his phone number and then said nothing"

"Hi...please come to my birthday party...bye Matt"

These are the shards of thoughts that my girl, Calla Merritt left as a message on my home phone answering machine. Carol left a follow-up message informing me that Calla has not yet mastered the concept of voicemail...in Calla's mind I had been sleeping, then when the phone rang I picked up but instantly fell back to sleep before a real conversation could begin. God, I wish I were that narcoleptic.

Later in the evening I talked to Calla on the phone and was officially invited to her 5th birthday party. I cannot wait to get to DC to hang out with Brian, Carol and Calla...good times are guaranteed.

Rooftop Phoenix

I believe it was the summer of 2002. For about five months I had had a severe case of "artist's block". I could not execute any creative idea, even if one had entered my head.

On a particularly hot day, I was up on my roof. Why I thought that getting 19 feet closer to the Sun would be cooler I don't know, but that was my belief. As I stood gazing at the stairwell structures that lead to the roof I was instantly cosmically inspired...I ran back down to my apartment to grab a yellow China marker. In a blur of a vision of a heat-induced delerium I realized how awesome the yellow of the China marker would look on the black paint/tar/sealant surface of the stairwell structure.

I began an intricate abstract design. Soon my hands and arms were black from the residue of the paint/tar/sealant surface. I had no idea what the final design would look like. The design flowed out of my wrist as though I were merely a conduit for the creation of...of...of... something.

In about ten minutes the design had been completed. It looked incredible. I stepped back and admired it from many different angles. Flawless.

To the best of my knowledge I have never been hit by a literal lightening bolt, but in this instance I had experienced the same effect. I had been jarred, shocked, jolted by some force to allow this creation to come out of me. Etched in my mind is the visual of returning to my apartment with pretty much my entire upper torso covered in a dusty blackness. Although it is kind of a cliche to say these days, in that moment I truly "felt alive". The creative blockage I had previously experienced disappeared. Washed away as I scrubbed my body free of the blackness.

--------

When my sister was in town last November, I took her and my brother Stan up to the roof to take a look at the gorgeous skyline view on display. When we got to the roof I discovered that, unbeknownst to me, the building super had recently "resealed" the entire roof in with a fresh coat of silver paint/tar/sealant. My design was gone. Like most of my artwork, it now "belonged to the ages"

While I cannot say that I was not disturbed by the loss of a familiar visual element of my own doing, the feeling of loss and mourning was short-lived. In a flash it hit me. The fresh coat of paint/tar/sealant had destroyed my artwork, but it provided an unblemished new canvas for a new creation.

The first day the mercury reaches 75 degrees you will know where to find me. Up on my roof creating something bigger and better...I cannot be stopped.

Art

Best T-Shirt Slogan Of 2006 (So Far...)

On sale now at Union:

Everything You Like, I Liked Five Years Ago.

Return Of A Friend

A little over two years ago my sister passed this book along to me. She did not like it and did not finish it but, nonetheless, put it on my radar. I instantly fell in love with it. "Running With Scissors" was one of those books that you truly, desperately do not want to end as it is so enjoyable.

After reading a great book, my first instinct is to read everything by that author. In this case I picked up Burrough's "Dry". As far as drug recovery memoirs by an urban gay goes it was okay. But it contained little of the magic that made "Running With Scissors" so hysterically funny.

Not suprisingly I ended the Burroughs reading series and chalked him as a one-hit wonder. When his book
"Magical Thinking" came out in 2004 I paid it no mind as I did not want to disappointed again (and the reviews were not as glowing)

Inexplicably I decided to begin reading "Magical Thinking" this week and it is absolutely awesome. Reading it feels like reuniting with an old friend who for some reason you have lost contact, and then you kick yourself for letting the relationship not get your attention...

Augusten...please forgive me.

What Have I Done To Deserve This...

Like most people I appreciate positive input regardless of the source. One place I look for such input is horoscope columns. Yeah, yeah, I know they are usually so general that they could apply to any person or situation. I do not care as I will take a positive jolt regardless.

Rob Brezny's Freewill Astrology stands head and shoulders above any other column. It does so not because of it's accuracy for predicting the future but because, as Mr. Brezny has said in previous interviews, his horoscopes are a vehicle for injecting poetry into otherwise poetry-deprived lives. In addition they are always extremely positive, funny and empowering.

Last night, like a lot of nights lately, I have not been able to sleep. I inevitably wake around 3:30-ish and toss and turn for hours. I fight the temptation to just get up and watch TV or engage in any other bright diversion. After about an hour and a half of sleeplessness I gave up and said I might as well just get on my computer....anything to take my mind off of not being able to slumber.

So I decide to visit the aforementioned Freewill Astrology and this is what I am greeted with as a forecast for the new week:

German scientist Juergen Zulley specializes in research about the hours we spend unconscious lying in our beds every night. He has come to the conclusion that a lack of sleep can make you stupid, fat, and sick. It weakens your memory, decreases a hormone that helps control your cravings for food, and undermines the healthy function of your heart, digestive system, and circulation. I would add that sleep deprivation reduces the time you spend dreaming, which compromises your mental hygiene. All of these consequences would be major problems for you in the next two weeks, Aquarius. If anything, you need to sleep more than usual. I implore you to get at least eight hours a night. More would be better

How cruel can the Universe be...

Human Resource Quiz

Let's say you own a business that, for financial reasons, needs to be open and operating on a holiday. Your presence is not necessary on said holiday as your employees are more than capable of handling the business...and, if truth be told your presence is never necessary as you literally will not lift a finger to help any of your employees.

What is the most productive way to deal with your employees who are not spending the holiday with their friends and family?

A) Call your employees by phone and tell them you appreciate their sacrificing their holiday for the sake of the business...enjoy the rest of your day knowing that your employees are aware of your appreciation.

B) Neither call nor enter the business on the holiday, lest you remind your employees that you can have the holiday off while they have to work...

C) Come to the business on the holiday and point out the flaws of the employees performance during one of the busiest days in recent memory...while literally not lifting a finger to help them out.

D) Come to the business and in the midst of the most chaotic (and financially lucrative) periods of the day, go to your office put your feet on your desk and take a nap...when you wake from slumber tell your employees what a great nap you just had.

If you answered C and D then "Congratulations!" you are a co-worker of mine.

Starting 2006 With High Dose Of Positive Energy

Started my new year off with at workout to this CD. Totally one of my favorite discs ever....Have only had the good fortune to hear Farley&Heller spin live once and they tore the roof off the place. Those kids need to move to NYC so that the Children can hear them more frequently.

My Future?

As I was reading a horoscope for Aquarians I came across this quote:

Being self-centered is no crime—especially when you're as fascinating as you are—but it's kind of a well-researched topic by now.

Jesus, could anything hit closer to home. That is exactly how I am perceiving my personality right now.

While I won't be giving up my self-centered-ness anytime in the near future, I feel like the time has come to remove myself from the microscope that I perpetually place my personality. My behavior is my behavior and beating myself up for my flaws is not worth the time or effort.

Life Gets More Easier

Last night I went to pick up food at Freshco Burrito Taco...(a rather straight-forward name for a Chinese run Tex-Mex place)

When I went in the woman behind the counter immediately asked if I wanted my usual ( a spinach burrito and two guacamole tacos). I replied yes and I was instantly filled with joy. Add another establishment in my neighborhood where I do not have to verbalize my desires....they recognize me when I walk in the door.

In a perfect world I would never have to speak inside another business. I walk in...get handed my food, dry cleaning, etc...give my money and leave. Someday I tell you, someday...

Positive Energy Is The Real Glitter

After I had my knee surgery a little over two years ago, not only did I have to go to physical therapy, but I also had to get back into the gym. My knee injury kept me out of the gym for probably two or three months. Not only did I put on a few pounds, but I also got out of the habit of going to the gym.

After such a long absence, and not having 100% strength in my knee, it was tough to get motivated on a day-to-day basis. Improvements were very, very slow. However, I perservered and eventually redeveloped my near neurotic daily workout regimen. I wish I could chalk it up to my indomitable spirit, but at that point in my life...well, my spirit was pretty domitable.

I perpetually draw strength from the music in my life. During this recovery period my soundtrack was almost exclusively remixes by one performer...Miss Mariah Carey. This revelation may come as a shock to those who only know Mariah from her songs on the radio or the MTV or saw Glitter. To anyone who has heard her music mixed by legends like David Morales or Clivilles&Cole will not be surprised. The remixes are stellar and I swear I listened to nothing else during my post-surgery workouts.

While at the gym today "Anytime You Need A Friend" came on my iPod and it hit me that I needed to throw a little cosmic love Mariah's way. Without her talents, my recovery would not have been nearly as empowering as it was with her vocal companionship

Words To Do Something By

I am about half way through this book and it is quietly rocking my world. The author includes an excerpt of a letter written by Sol LeWitt to the artist Eva Hesse. Although it is quite long it has become my new mantra.

"Learn to say 'Fuck You' to the world once in a while. You have every right to. Just stop thinking, worrying, looking over your shoulder, wondering, doubting, fearing, hurting, hoping for some easy way out, struggling, gasping, confusing, itching, scratching, mumbling, bumbling, grumbling, humbling, stumbling, rumbling, rambling, gambling, tumbling, scumbling, scrambling, hitching, hatching, bitching, moaning, groaning, honing, boning, horse-shitting, hair-splitting, nit-picking, piss-trickling, nose-sticking, ass-gouging, eyeball-poking, finger-pointing, alleyway-sneaking, long waiting, small stepping, evil-eying, back-scratching, searching, perching, besmirching, grinding grinding grinding away at yourself. Stop it and just DO."

Opener

If I had some stage time tonight I would open with the following true story/joke:

"So I went to the Nickel Spa for Men today and had a massage and a facial...then I went to the West Side Club and had a massage and a facial"

Ba-dum-bum.

Unoriginal Thought

I was looking through the iPod instruction manual the other day. One of the graphics they have shows a songlist as it would appear on the iPod. One of the songs listed is "Girlfriend In Sonoma".

Needless to say I thought it was strange that they would put a "fake" song instead listing the original Smiths song "Girlfriend In A Coma"....I mean it is not like Morrissey has that much time on his hands that he would sue Steve Jobs over copyright infringement.

Just to satisfy my curiosity I decided to google "Girlfriend In Sonoma". I came across this link.

Damn, beaten to the punch, someone else was more observant than me.

1000% True

The deli on the corner of West 3rd and Thompson is offering a brand-new sandwich. I swear to baby Jesus I am not making this up.

The ingredients are:

Grill Chicken
Bacon
Mozzerella
Oregano
Low-fat Ranch Dressing


The obvious name for such a delicacy: Angel Dust

All I Want...

Stopped by Deitch today to see this show.

Jim Drain and Ara Peterson are a couple of the founding members of Forcefield, so basically I knew I was going to be slobbering over the artwork before I even entered the door.

Needless to say I was not disappointed. The show had movement, color and simplicity which when you boil it down is all I really want from a work of art.

While being extraordinary simple, the stuff on display was obviously put together by people who knew exactly how to pare down the vision in their minds-eye to the simplest forms and then execute it. One of the great things about the show was the high production values and quality of the art work. It so refreshing to see young artists rebuke the idea that amateurishness is a sign of talent.

Again With The Mercury

Anyone who has spent more than five minutes with me during the last 20 years knows that I cannot shut up about the planet Mercury going retrograde.

(For a brief refresher course on what the hell I am talking about and a handy Mercury calendar click here)

We are currently in one of these periods and I vowed to myself that I would not bring it up in conversations or in my own thought process as I believe that the power of suggestion can alter the perception of actual events. Or more accurately that my mention of it may be a self-fulfilling prophecy.

That being said, in the past few days I have been forced to acknowledge Mercury's influence. The number of miscommunications has been ridiculous. I don't think I am alone in saying that my level of mental clarity has been especially low. Want proof? Just look at the incoherence of this post

What I Am Working On

One of my focal points for 2006 is to mentally get over the idea that "the grass is greener on the other side of the fence".

Although I don't consider myself a particularly covetous or envious person, I often find myself thinking that other people have it "easy". The only basis I have for these thoughts is that the person in question seems to have an easier station in life...I might perceive them as having a better financial, emotional, intellectual circumstances and therefore, in my head, they are "better off" than I am.

Somewhere, some one is needlessly envying me right now.

The Littlest Things

One of the most profound realizations I have had over the past few years is the idea that while grand gestures are important in life, it is frequently the "little things" that we hold most dear to our hearts...

A couple of years ago I was travelling back to Lincoln to be with my mom while she was in the hospital. Considering the circumstance I was not exactly looking forward to the trip.

After I made my travel arrangements I e-mailled my family in Lincoln to let them know that I would be renting a car at the airport and would therefore not need to picked up after my flight. I knew everyone would be stressed out by the situation at hand and did not want to require any of my siblings to make an airport run. Also, you need a vehicle at your disposal in order to get from point A to point B....no subways available.

My flights to Lincoln were, as usual, quite draining. Couple that with the concept of travelling to Nebraska in the wintertime, and my mom's health issues and needless to say I was not in the best of moods when I de-planed.

As I left the gate and was approaching the baggage claim area I saw that my dad was waiting for me on the concourse. As I approached him I smiled, began to embrace him in a hug, and I stated the obvious "Dad, you didn't have to come and meet me I told you I rented a car". His light-hearted response was "Oh I had to come and meet the Captain at the airport!"

In a split second my mind and heart were blown away. As a kid my dad for some completely inexplicable reason, nicknamed me Captain. At the very least it had been 25 years since he had called me that. So long, in fact, that as an adult I began to second guess my childhood memories "Had he every called me that or did I just dream it up" I frequently wondered. Although I was curious, I never brought the topic up for fear of looking like an idiot if I had created the nickname in my head.

"Oh I had to come and meet the Captain at the airport!"

When those words were spoken I cannot describe the warmth I felt in my heart, in my soul. As an understatement I will say that my dad and I have not seen eye-to-eye on a lot of topics. But in that instant I was transported way back to a much simpler time in my life. An amazingly innocent time in my life. A period where neither my dad nor I was harshly judging the flaws of the other. A point in my existence with significantly less manufactured bullshit in my relationship with my father.

A time when all that mattered was that he was my dad and I was his "Captain".

The Way It Used To Be

As a Halloween gift my parents sent me about a dozen Nebraska grown apples and some caramel for dipping said apples. They also included a print version of this article. Which is a pretty good read and makes you realize that due to the ever so slow "dumbing down" of the red delicious apple, what was once great tasting is now mediocre.

The red delicious apples were the authentic kind, not the factory grown kind that you find in every supermarket and fruitstand. The taste was refreshingly eye-opening...exactly how an apple should taste. But for me the best part of these orchard grown apples was that they did not have that annoying white PLU sticker on them. You know the sticker that you have to gouge a fingernail into in order to get it off the skin of the apple.

It made feel bad for today's kids who don't know there was a time when fruit did not have words or numbers stamped on them.

More Things I Love...

Corner slices of Sicilian Pizza from Bleecker St. Pizza...getting a haircut...listening to Randi Rhodes...merely the thought of a fresh pair of Vans...when my friend Ana uses Arial in lieu of another font...new issues of Vice magazine... sleeping with an absurd number of pillows and blankets...the latest obscure but hilariously insightful thoughts from Mr. Mickey...

Out Of Control

I am currrently in the middle of no less than three books on the topic of Iraq.

Couple this my incessant attention to Americablog and other internet and cable news sources and you will realize that I have no life outside of "researching" this completely unnecessary mess that our president has made. A mess that every single day yields a phone call or field visit to a family informing them that their son, daughter, husband, wife or parent is dead.

Bad Engrish

The other day I sent an e-mail to my brother Dave who is currently stationed in Djibouti. In the e-mail I included this Satan's Laundromat link. I love seeing mangled english and apparently I am not the only one.

After I sent the e-mail, for some reason I began thinking that making light of non-English speakers inadvertantly twisting the language might be a tad culturally imperialistic (can you tell I took political science classes in college...years of debt just to be able to drop the term like culturally imperialistic into a sentence!)

I felt bad for about eleven minutes and then I realize that everyone in every culture would make fun of a non-native speaker destroying their beloved language. For instance, I know that every Spanish-speaking person I encounter will likely mock me when I describe everything as "mas fina"...pantalones mas fina, cerveza mas fina, el diablo mas fina. Trust me if I could master a second adjective I would gladly apply that to every spanish noun in lieu of "mas fina"...maybe someday.

I began trying to mentally investigate where I developped this appreciation for mangled english. Ironically, I saw as one of the major influences in this direction was my brother Dave...

My brother Dave is thirteen years older than me, so when he was a young adult I was still very much an impressionable kid.

If I remember correctly, Dave was in his mid-twenties when in addition to grad school and full-time job he signed up to be a door-to-door advertisement distributor. When he could not fit this part-time job into his schedule, or had a particulary large route to deliver, he would sub-contract his duties to his younger brothers.

As a way to make a little money, I was seduced into helping out.

The basic concept of the job was to go to every house in particular neighborhood and hang a plastic envelope that had an advertisement for a local business held within it. For city-dwellers, imagine the guy standing on the street corner handing out fliers...now imagine him coming to your front door to hang the advertisement you have no interest in on your doorknob...now imagine that it is a punky eleven year old who may potentially step on your well-manicured front lawn.

The job was a dream for anyone who had a future in sociology. You definitely got to see human behavior in relation to their "personal space" being invaded. When you went into the wealthy neighborhoods the residents would look at you suspiciously and wonder if you might defile one of their precious blades of grass or steal some of their property. When you went into the poor neighborhoods the residents would look at you suspiciously and wonder if you were going to steal some of their property. Best of both worlds.

One day Dave and I were delivering ads in the poor neighborhood called Belmont. When I was on my section of the route I came across house with a doorknob that, in barely legible hand-written pencil, said "Hang No Ads". I immediately started laughing hysterically. I got such great satisfaction because, other than being obviously retarded and funny, I knew that when I described it to my brother he would get a kick out of it as well.

When I reconnected with Dave I told him about the doorknob, and as expected, he thought it was a riot. I swear that for the rest of the day we repeated the phrase "Hang No Ads" back to each other about forty times. From that day forward, whenever we would come across a particularly shady residence I would just say "Hang No Ads" and we would begin laughing about it as if it were the first time we encountered it...

The Greatest Actor Of Our Generation

I have come to the conclusion that I am the greatest actor of our generation. How have I determined this you ask?

Well, the fact that I can keep a straight face while, on more than one occaision, my boss verbally mangles the phrases "...fall on deaf ears" and "...turn a blind eye" into "...fall on deaf eyes" proves my prowess.

Let's see Phillip Seymour Hoffman do that.

Off The Wagon

Got an e-mail today from my friend Geoff telling me to pick up the current issue of Metropolis. The architectural firm he works at did the interiors at the new Bloomberg building...and the interiors got a cover story.

Now having someone suggest I go into a magazine store is equivalent to urging a crackhead to go to the crackhouse and buy one crackrock...I mean it is just plain dangerous.

Lately I have been pretty good with my magazine addiction. I strongly question every purchase ("Am I just buying this for one article that I could read online?")...If I am forced to buy one of those ridiculously overpriced fashion/art/design/architecture magazines I always scour the homeless magazine sellers on Sixth Avenue to see if they have a copy "in stock".

So I decide I am going to go to a magazine store and buy ONLY the issue of Metropolis that was suggested. I went to three stores and no one had the November issue. It was raining and I was in a hurry to get home but I decided to try this tiny storefront magazine stand on West 3rd between Sixth and Macdougal. This stand has some sort of tie to the street kiosk magazine stand just down the block from me on Thompson St...I don't know if the same family owns both...or if the a group of Pakistani friends trade shifts working at either location...I have never pinpointed the connection.

Tonight, when I walk into the storefront I look up at the cashier and I recognize him from working at the other location years ago. The first words out of his mouth were "Long time, no see". Great...I was such a free-spending customer back in the day that years later he is able to recognize me.

Instead of being embarassed at over-the-top-ness of my magazine addiction, I should be delighted that he still recognizes a valued customer...after all, I probably pumped enough money into his business over the years to send his children to Harvard....

Word Of The Day

Nacreous

Came across this word in a display at the Center for Architecture around the corner from my apt. Not only did I not know it's meaning, I had never heard it before. Rest assured I will be dropping it in to any and all conversations going forward.

Random Brightness

I was out running errands today. When I was about a block from my apartment building I look up and see my friend Timmy. Nothing strange about that, except for the fact that it had at least been 3 years since I had seen him.

That is one of the downsides of living in this city. It seems like it is too easy for relationships to drift apart. People are busy trying to make enough money to afford living here that human connections suffer...couple of missed dates...a few phonecalls go unreturned ...and then all of the sudden it has been years since you have talked to a friend.

While this is definitely the situation regarding me and Timmy, I am choosing to look at the bright side of the situation...the fact that within 4 seconds of making eye-contact with each other we were hugging and kissing and "carrying on" as if the 3 year absence had never happened...

School Is In Session

Went to Cielo last night for a new party called Master Class. The promoters are billing the party as a chance for legendary DJs to be in a small environment and go to the roots of House music.

It doesn't get much more legendary than the inaugural DJ... Junior Vasquez. While "chatting up" a cute boy in line to get in I determined that it had been at least a couple of years since I heard Junior. After last night it certainly won't be that long before I hear him again.

He punished the Children last night..."Get Your Hands Off My Man","Plastic Dreams", "X", "So Get Up", "Your Child"...just some of the Sound Factory gems he brought out. The crowd was very much there to hear this music...an amazing vibe. It was the type of party that, when I was about to pick up my jacket at the Coat Check and call it a night, I heard the opening chords of DJ Pierre's "Atom Bomb" and I knew I had to get out of line and return to the dancefloor. Scorching...

The Fastest Slowest Day

Due to the ridiculously rainy weather, lack of sleep, and the inept staff at the Apple store I got very little accomplished today.

Can't even summon the energy for an interesting blog entry.

There is always tomorrow.

Things I Call "Bullshit" On...(Partial List)

Lactose Intolerance and 98% of all "food allergies"...Recycling...Anti-biotics..."Designer" T-shirts, "Designer" Jeans, basically anything with the word "Designer" attached to it...Transexualism

Defending Icons

A couple of weeks ago I saw this twenty-something guy wearing a black t-shirt with the cover of Joy Division's "Unknown Pleasures" printed on it. There were two strange things about it...first, the guy did not look like the "typical" Joy Division fan and secondly, the t-shirt just had the graphic on it without having any of the text.
After passing the guy I began to develop a conspiracy theory that someone was printing the shirt to sell to trendy people.

A few days later, a young woman came into work wearing the same shirt except it was even more "fashion-ized"...cut for a wider neckline and cinched at the shoulders.

To test my theory and to be a jerk I asked her if she was a Joy Division fan. She looked a bit perplexed while I pointed to the graphic on her shirt. Her befuddled response was "...oh, I am kind of dumb about things like that". As a living public service announcement I informed her that Joy Division was a band.

I wonder if 50 years from now you will be able to sell a t-shirt with a swastika to trendy youth who know none of the history, but just think it "looks cool".

Reason #844 Why I Love New York

I was watching this documentary the other day. About ten minutes in they show Derrida walking by the Silver Towers about two blocks from my apt.

It still blows me away that I live in this city.

New Favorite

So I have a new favorite character that goes to my gym. Replacing the wannabe-Brazilian who would not take off his sunglasses (even in the shower) and the aging art teacher who wears Yamamoto and vintage Sergio Tacchini, this new character is amazing. Whatever this man's workout...lifting weights or doing cardio he is constantly talking to himself.

First off, I can't relate how refreshing it is to see someone legitimately talking to themselves instead of vocalizing into a miniscule cell phone. This particular gentleman is literally talking to himself constantly. I would love to share his name with you but it is impossible for me to introduce myself to him as I cannot get a word in edgewise...I am completely serious.

Word Association

You know how there are certain words or phrases that when you hear them your mind immediatedly takes you to a mental reference that your mind has associated with that word or phrase, but has nothing to do with what that word or phrase means.

What follows is the mental association I make whenever I hear or read the name Alfred Hitchcock.

When I was around 10 or 11 years old, my friend Kevin Fisher was always talking about watching
"Alfred Hitchcock Presents" on late night cable television. Since the Buell household did not have cable, I had no actual experience viewing the show.

One Friday night Kevin invited me to spend the night at his house which would allow us to watch "Alfred Hitchcock Presents" together, instead of him having to describe the entire episode in detail the following morning. In hindsight it is very strange that Kevin would hype this show so much as it really was not in keeping with his very mainstream tastes. Part of me thinks that he knew I would like it and was being mildly cruel in reminding me that I didn't have access to it...whereas he had access to it, but didn't really get into it.

Regardless, all arrangements were in place for me to spend the night. If memory serves me correctly the program was to begin at midnight. So Kevin and I were sitting on his couch watching his TV in his basement, patiently waiting for the show to start. Around ten minutes to midnight we hear this huge explosion and all of the sudden all the electricity goes out.

Although we did not want to go upstairs and potentially wake up Kevin's parents...thereby spoiling our fun, we quickly came to the conclusion that even if they were asleep before, they were probably awakened by the same loud noise we heard 30 seconds previous.

When we got upstairs Kevin's dad was walking out of his bedroom carrying a flashlight...a completely reasonable action except for the fact that he was completely naked. Any normal prepubescent boy would be curious to look at the completely naked body of his friend's father....Let's just say I had a healthy level of curiousity, which was heightened by the fact that Mr. Fisher was, how shall I say...extremely well endowed. I would later learn that the apple does not fall far from the tree...but in that moment I was absolutely transfixed, and did not have the ability disguise my interest in the glow of the now much-appreciated flashlight.

Mr. Fisher suggested that an electrical transformer on the power lines had most likely exploded resulting in the loss of electricity. We heard another loud noise outdoors and decided to check it out. I just assumed that Mr. Fisher would step back into his bedroom and put on some clothes before heading out to the porch. Interestingly enough he did not. So I find myself standing with my friend and his naked father on their front porch.

Obviously this left an indelible mark on my consciousness as I am able to recall it a couple of decades later...as I do every time I hear the name Alfred Hitchcock

Beauty

Randomly I came across this book cover. It totally reminds me of every textbook from my elementary school years...beautiful simple geometry and two of my favorite colors paired together. Visual heaven.

Hero Of The Week

My Hero Of The Week is my co-worker Jessica. For months she has been asking my boss for a well deserved raise. He proposed that he would pay her slightly more if she went from hourly employee to salaried employee. Needless to say she used her common sense to see that this was a bullshit deal...a little more money for a lot more work. She turned down this ridiculous offer cold...Awesome!