Looking Good...

So this is supposedly the mug shot taken of notorious senator Larry Craig shortly after he was arrested in the Minneapolis airport.

Notice the impeccably tied necktie and the american flag pin. Is there a more dignified look to serve a stranger as you prepare to give him anonymous sex in bathroom stall? I think not.

Kudos Mr. Craig!

Read Your Clothes

The good folks at DSquared remind us that religion does have a place in fashion.

So you say you don't believe in Jesus? Just substitute the name of your favorite deity and or prophet and the statement still holds true.

Coming Distraction

While I can frequently be found hatin' on the Deitch Gallery. I have to give them props for producing the Art Parade. It is one of those "only in New York" that never fails to give a sense of the full spectrum of delightfully ridiculous people in this town.

Officiel!

It has been decided that if you are, indeed, a woman this is the shoe of the right now. 'Tis all 'bout color and shape at the moment and this Pierre Hardy originale has both in spades.

...And I don't want to hear any backtalk about how we are entering autumn and therefore we are returning to muted colors....Didn't you comprehend the first sentence of this post?..."It has been decided..." Just accept it, move on, and make the world a more beautiful place

Out (of it)

Hung out with Timmy last night.

We went to Pravda, Eastern Bloc and then broke up the communist europe theme with a visit to The Phoenix. It was Timmy's first visit there and he was surprised to see the bar was tended not by the de riguer hot bartender, but an elderly woman who looked like she was not unfamiliar with the inside of a methadone clinic...and people still question why I love this city.

Space Bubble

Is it wrong to not want to date someone because of their neighborhood? I definitely don't think so.

Don't get me wrong, I am not one of these people who say "I never go above 14th St." (although it is true.) I am speaking about seeing people who live too close to your own neighborhood. I need my space...that is part of deal, yo.

Shout Out: Chris Burden

During college, when I should have been in class, I could frequently be found in the library reading back issues of Artforum and Art In America magazines. One of the artists I discovered and fell in love with was Chris Burden.

Performance art was a hot topic at the time due to the whole NEA Four controversy. Yet, Burden's work decades earlier put his contemporaries to shame...he literally personified "Bleeding Edge" art. How many others would literally take a bullet in their arms and call it art? Honey, smearing chocolate on your naked body is nowhere near as gangsta as getting shot.

Viva La Glamour

Is there anything sexier than smoking a cigarette naked in the hallway of an apartment decorated with international magazine covers? The legendary After Dark magazine and I say "No"

Internet Diet

I am sure I have mentioned the hard copy magazine before, but the online blog of Linda Simpson's My Comrade is an absolutely essential part of the thinking pervert's internet diet.

The Craigslist ripoff layout is so genius that it literally hurts my skull. The content is so off-the-wall that it you will wish you were that clever...at least I do.

Addicted To Love

Other than the obvious drama that addiction conjures, one of the things I love most about the A&E show Intervention is that it is one of the few places on TV where families and friends tell others that they love them.

The unscripted nature of the documentary allows people in pain to express what is in their heart to someone who, through their addiction, is hurting them. So often the families involved show the power of forgiveness...they are willing to forgive past hurt for the greater good of getting the addict on the road to recovery.

F.A.C.

Hung out with Jasmin, Jeff and Boyle yesterday at Old Town Bar.

Everyone was in a particularly kvetching mood, which was good because it mirrored my own.

Sometimes it is nice to do nothing except drink Guinness and bitch about the world.

A Visual Depiction Of How I Am Feeling Today...

...in a word RADICAL.

Silver Streak Leads To Blue Streak

We were sitting around a small hexagonal table. Just me and a couple of my second grade friends. Talk turned to what we had done the previous holiday weekend...

Even though I was only seven years old at the time, my brothers had taken me to see the Gene Wilder/Richard Pryor movie Silver Streak. How they convinced my mom to allow me to see a "PG" movie still remains a mystery.

The movie's adult plot was way beyond my comprehension. What I did pick up on were the several "curse words" that probably emanated from Richard Pryor's character.

At this young age I was still hyper-hyper concerned with being a "good boy". I never got into trouble and was basically the apple of my teacher's eye.

But here I was sitting with my friends around a table...and I began to tell them of the movie I had seen. I doubt any of them had seen anything but a Disney movie, but here I was having seen an adult comedy.

Despite my better judgement, I knew that I had to relay the "curse words" I had been exposed to. After a brief plot synopsis, I gathered them in close and in a hushed tone I said "...and then, one guy said 'Ass'". I had never verbalized a naughty word before, and here I had just uttered it within earshot of my teacher.

My friends were justifiably impressed with the outrageousness of my verbage. They were so impressed that they began laughing and saying the word "Ass" out loud.

What should have been a liberating rebellious experience immediately turned into torture. Although I quieted them down...I was instantly racked with guilt and regret. I just knew that I had made a mistake...I knew that somehow someway my verbal transgression would come back to haunt me...one classmate might tell another who might tell our teacher or their parent.

I was burdened with guilt for days...never knowing when the hammer might drop and I would be called into the principal's office for a "talking-to".

As it turned out, nothing ever came of my "blue streak"....I thanked G-d profusesly for saving my sterling reputation at the time.

I think about this incident quite frequently...over the course of time I gave into the temptation to swear and now I have what is affectionately known as "potty-mouth". I still have an amazing ability to censor myself in those situations that demand it...but otherwise....I talk a great deal of shit...

Dog Day Afternoon

It is supposed to be 105 degrees tomorrow...I am really over this heat and humidity...If this continues I may lose control.

Week In Review

...Drinks with Ben...Date with new "boy"...Kitchen repairs...No "day off" from gym...Lugging home ten books from the Library...fresh Beats In Space podcast...etc.

Respect Yourself

Holy shiite...just watched the "Great Performances" documentary on Stax Records. Absolutely fantastic.

So much history on so much awesome music.

At various points in the film, practically every participant describes the color-blind atmosphere at the Stax Studios in Memphis. Black or white, it did not matter provided you had talent and soul.

The artists they had were blessed with both talent and soul...Otis Redding, Isaac Hayes, Staple Singers, Rufus Thomas and many many others.

There are some scenes with the Stax artists on tour in Europe in 1967. The performances on display are the very definition of "tearin' the roof off the sucka!". Smokin' hot.

Guiding Force

Just picked up Michael Musto's "La Dolce Musto". It is a well-edited collection of his columns from the past two decades. It is funny as hell.

Before I moved to New York, I relied on Musto to give me the dirt on the comings-and-goings of B-list celebrities and the Club Kids that are/were his milieu.

Although the Village Voice is free on the streets of Manhattan, I had to pay through the nose to get a subscription mailed to Lincoln Nebraska...but trust me, it was worth every cent. Musto's gloriously bitchy writing was a large part of my desire to head to New York. He deliciously documented slices of nightlife that I had not even come close to experiencing.

Creative Growth

After a workout at the gym I stopped by Gavin Brown's Enterprise to check out some art. I pretty much approve of everything Mr. Brown presents so I usually don't have to check the art listings to verify what is on view.

The Creative Growth exhibition was absolutely ridiculous. The artists definitely had their finger on what is au courant in the artworld right now. It was only after checking out the works that I learned the artists being presented were with the Creative Growth Art Center.

There were a couple of works that referenced obscure-ass Disco stars from the seventies. This shit was for real.

The Crush

We have been training a ton of new people at work this week. While I don't normally mind a few new fresh faces, there were a couple of days when you literally could not move without bumping into someone. After saying "Excuse me" for the thirty-first time I just gave up and noted that these interlopers were going to have to get used to being elbowed as long as they were in my space.

Other factors were causing me frustration, but the claustrophobia created by having so many people around threw me for a loop. I was reminded of the lack of privacy I endured as a youth. Ten humans living in a house that had, if one stretched their imagination, three bedrooms. My parents, needless to say, had a private bedroom. My sole sister was bestowed a seperate room due to her gender which left the seven sons to divide up one bedroom and whatever common space was left.

For many years my "bedroom" was a couch in a tiny nook off of our dining room.

As an adult I absolutely savor the privacy I have in my apartment. It is a dreamlike environment that I could not have imagined as a child.

Green Club

Friday night's party in the garden of Cooper-Hewitt was, in a word, refreshing.

It is so nice to listen to really soulful music surrounded by flowers, trees and green grass instead of a club. Tony Humphries was truly amazing. He brought tons of fresh songs...I did not recognize a single one of them until I was about ready to leave... when he served up Chic's gem "My Feet Keep Dancing". It was so perfect to bring a 30 year old jam that sounded as vital as the new stuff he had just played.

Two Guilty Pleasures

Although on the surface I appear to be a cosmopolitan sophisticate, that is not completely true. For instance I love Mo'nique. She is the type of sassy black woman who seems to have all but disappear from our pop cultural landscape (only to be replaced by cardboard fake-assed "divas")

Mo'nique is saucy and world-wise, but never bitter in her humor...

While on the topic of guilty pleasures I feel I owe it to the public to admit my heartfelt love for Nacho Cheese flavored Combos pretzels. Yes, I am fully aware that these were conceived and produced in a chemistry lab somewhere, but that does not mean that they are necessarily un-awesome does it? No it does not. If the level of carcinogens involved in their manufacture is what I believe it to be, then I shall book passage to chemo-ward and enjoy their deliciousness henceforth.

All The Help I Can Get

I have not been eating very well lately. It definitely shows in my skintone. My usually luminous face has become muddied. Vows have been made to eat more fruits and vegetables as well as drinking more fluids...we will see how it goes.

In the meanwhile I will be employing some facial corsets to get me to the other side.

Still recovering from Sunday nights party. Other than getting started later than advertised it was pretty much flawless.

On their own Joe, Francois, and Danny are phenomenal DJs...on the rare occaision that they play together it can only be described as magic. The drop tracks from all eras and styles creating a set that is greater than the sum of it's awesome parts.

I still get blown away by the positive vibe that erupts from crowd when they play a gem like Don Ray's "Got To Have Loving". It is probably a cliche to say anymore but the dancers do truly become a unified tribe...something that is increasingly rare in the clubs of New York.

Mercury is going out with a bang...currently cannot title posts through Blogger.

For at least a decade I have been saying that the problem with American society is that we are teaching our children that they are special. When I read and article like this I get pissed. When will people stop bitin' my ideas.

Gimme my monies Wall Street Journal.

Mental Grafitti

Lately we have been listening to a lot of Led Zeppelin at work. Whenever the song "Houses of The Holy" comes on I am mentally transported back to a summer during my teenage years...

Somehow my friends Bryan and Jim convinced me that we should go to a Baptist church and hear a mid-week sermon on the evils of Rock-n-Roll. Although he claimed that our attendance would be for ironic purposes only, Bryan also had a lot of residual guilt from being brought up in the Assemblies of God church which lead him to suggest the idea.

Due to Bryan being older than Jim and me, having a driver's license and an old Chevy Vega at his disposal meant that his wishes were usually given priority.

We entered the un-airconditioned church and were met maybe fourteen other teenagers that had been cajoled into attending the event. I secretly questioned whether the A.C. had purposefully been turned off to mirror the Hellish fate that awaited us if we continued down the path of being Rock fans.

Many examples of the devils influence in pop music were presented in the lecture. A recording of Queen's "Another One Bites The Dust", was played backwards. If one really stretched their imagination, perhaps with the aid of a natural low-grade hallucinogen, they could hear the phrase "Smoke Marijuana" repeated over and over again.

Another example was the aforementioned "Houses of The Holy" which has the lyric...

Let the music be your master.
Will you heed the master's call
Oh... Satan and man.

Thankfully the songwriters did not force the minister to play the song backwards to get the "hidden" meaning. It is quite up front in it's Satan-icity.

It was never fully explained how hearing these words would make a teenager sell their soul to the Devil, but if you continued to listen to this music (outside of a Baptist church) then you would be on a path to damnation.

Twenty-some-odd years later I get the hugest kick over the fact that such an evil song is now acceptable in the modern workplace. Funny... unless it is part of Satan's master plan.

Water Kills Earth

By no stretch of the imagination do I consider myself an environmentalist, but after reading
this article I have to seriously question buying another bottle of water again...especially one from Fiji.

Wise Options

The other day Andrew sent me a text saying that his response to Mercury being retrograde is to either hide from the world or have a drink.

Since I am trying to minimize my alcohol intake, I guess I will have to choose the former option. Oh, wait that is the option I choose even when Mercury is not retrograde.

Human Giant, Heated Interview

...Human Giant sketches are hit or miss. Either they are super dumb or ridiculously brilliant like this one.

Stuck In The Head

For some reason I have been thinking a lot about the following phrase..."I Can't Imagine Ever Wanting To Be White." Those words entered my consciousness in 1994 when I read a review of that year's Whitney Biennial.

Daniel Martinez had created the pins pictured here for patrons of the show to wear upon entering.

Although I did not see that show I was definitely affected by the concept of this artwork. At the time it struck me more in a political context. In our mental shadows we assume that with all the privileges that white skin affords, that naturally people would want a slice of that privilege.

The great thing about this phrase is that you can apply it to any attribute...I can't imagine ever wanting to be (male, thin, straight, rich, female, black, young, gay, beautiful, smart, ad infinitum). For me it is a mental levelling tool. So often do I become a victim of my own perspectives. I get tunnel vision and have none-to-fleeting thoughts that if everyone simply had my view on things then what a glorious world this would be.

Mental Cocoon

Left work yesterday and immediately headed for the gym. Upon my arrival I realized that I forgot to pack my iPod. No worries...I guess I can work out in silence for a change.

As I hit the gym floor I was instantly reminded that when you don't have headphones in your ears an annoying thing happens. People talk to you.

Why did I get plagued with such a magnetic personality?

Undecided Sky Activity

Due to a scheduling realignment I have today off. All week long SuperDoppler 3000 has been predicting clear skies and sunny temps for today. Therefore I planned to go to the beach and get some much needed Vitamin D.

Unfortunately the prognostications were wrong. Instead of being sunny it has been the dreaded "partly cloudy". Not sunny enough to merit a trip to the ocean and not cloudy enough to merit spending the day in bed with a good book.

As a result my bipolarity and A.D.D. have had a field day. I have had little focus and have spent the day fluttering about like a (gorgeous) butterfly.

Where Brooklyn At?

Saturday I travelled to Brooklyn twice in one day. A new acheivement for me.

First I headed out to Ana and Michael's garden wedding. Despite a brief rain shower it was an absolutely awesome affair.

There was a great vibe amongst the guests. Everything was simple, beautiful and charming. Ana looked completely radiant and there was a joy in Michael's eyes that was palpable.

Got to hang a bit with Jemal which had not happened in years.

The food was amazing and the wine was flowing. Somehow I got the brilliant idea to do shots of aguardiente. The Colombians in attendance were telling me that the liquer would "cure what ails me" but, I would have a devastating hangover. Sounds like a great deal to me...

After a train ride back in to Manhattan, I showered then hopped a different train to get out to Jameson's BBQ. Had Notorious B.I.G's greatest hits on the iPod as I travelled to Williamsburg.

All the usual suspects were there, and again I was treated to undeniably delicious food...when are these people going to become my personal chefs.

Jameson revealled his latest artwork which we we call a "site-specific" piece involving the manipulation of bags of garbage from his next door neighbors. We are so on the same artistic wavelength it boggles the mind.

Fate

Of course my morning meeting was cancelled, so I wasted a perfectly good night sleeping instead of having fun at Cielo.

Damn fate...

Future Regret

I have chosen to be responsible and not go to this party tonight. It has been far too long since I have experienced the party music that Dimitri from Paris can deliver.

His new compilation of obscure disco classics is getting rave reviews...so you know he is going to turn it out.

Unfortunately I have an early morning meeting tomorrow that demands that I be at the top of my game.

Adulthood is vastly overrated.

Success

Went to this show last weekend. It was absolutely amazing.

The kids behind FAILE never cease to inspire. Whether their work is seen on the street, or in the temporary "gallery" they created for this show.

I think the thing I appreciate about their work is that they are never trying too hard to be cool. In doing so they are cooler than 97% of the cats working the streets today.

The references they use are not overworked. They have a universal quality, but are not overly familiar or played out.

Cheap-ass New Age-y Thought of The Day

When I was walking back to my apartment this afternoon I began thinking about fear. It seems to me that this thing we call "life" is the perpetual elimination of fear.

I was thinking about the things that struck fear in my heart as a kid, as a young adult, and say five years ago. Some of those fears are so alien to me that it is shocking...

But I also acknowlege that I am still plagued by fears or apprehensions that hopefully will resolve themselves in the future. I think that because we cannot fully comprehend the seemingly irrational fears that others have that is a stumbling block in human relations.

Unlimited Beauty

Spent some quality time on the dancefloor at Sullivan Room with the legendary Danny Krivit.

His set was so remarkable that I may have to officially designate him my second favorite DJ (behind only Frankie Knuckles).

Danny was playing some ridiculously "techy" african tribal rhythms. He seemed to play a lot of non-vocal tracks, which normally aren't my favorite, but the beats were so relentless that you could not avoid getting into them.

In the midst of these very organic sounds he would blow out an old disco gem. At one point I started thinking that if he played a Sound Factory classic then the party would get out of control....Then as if hearing my thought, the next song was Loni Clark's "Rushing"...needless to say the room exploded.

Danny's ability to mix different styles, eras, the familiar and the obscure, puts him head and shoulders above most DJs out there.

Under The Stars, Not Under The Table

Had a quick shower after work and then met Jeremy and Ben for cocktails on the patio at Bowery Bar.

It was wonderful just being outside in the 72 degree air.

Cuddling With Disaster

It is starting to rain again. I am going to get underneath my flannel sheets and snuggle up with this book. I will be asleep within 22 minutes

Simple pleasures.

Style Biter

Is there anything more awesome than somebody attempting to look like Karl Lagerfeld?

Since he went on that retarded fad diet a few years ago Karl has been a parody of glamour. How do you parody a parody? My mind is blown.

The Limits of Blogging

Sometimes I do not write because the events going on in my life/mind seem way too big.

Having my brother Clay in town last week was an absolutely mind-blowing experience. So many thoughts and realizations were running through my skull that it seems I could not pick out one to write about unless I gave the background on the 50,000 thoughts that lead up to that realization or experience.

I think I need to learn to just write something.... it may not be a perfect representation of the thoughts in my head, but (hopefully) it will be better than nothing.

The Stress of No Stress

I decided to take the weekend off from reality...

Began my time away from work with Andrew's party in Brooklyn. While I truly enjoyed being on his roof with the gorgeous view of Manhattan. There were a lot of ingredients in place to make it an affair to remember, but for some reason my head was not in it.

Saturday was hot so I just chilled indoors and nursed a (thankfully) mild hangover.

Sunday I vowed to get some stuff done, but due to the rain I got about half the errands accomplished.

Of course now that it is Sunday evening I am berating myself for not "doing" more, but I guess I am justifying my laziness and desire to be a recluse because last weekend was so event filled that I need a break from the holiday weekend.

Building The Perfect Beast

If you like looking at things that are awesome, you must pick up the new issue of Arena Homme+. Nick Knight and Simon Foxton have teamed up to photograph the work of John Galliano. The results are spectacular and a computer image cannot do them justice. You must have the hard copy to enjoy fully.

I am definitely inspired to wear headgear on the streets....and I already like to be naked in public, so expect me to start delivering these looks to the masses.

Beauty Just A Block Away

If I have failed to mention it a million times before...I love New York. It still blows my mind when events like this happen.

Danny Krivit, one of my all time favorite DJs (and super-nice guy) will be working his magique at Sullivan Room ...literally one block from my apartment.

If you had told me many moons ago that I would only have to walk a block to hear a hero of house music, I would not have believed it. Now it is reality.

This party will be packed, so please do not "front" on it.

Finally

Ladies and Gentlemen...Congratulations must be sent out to Kiki&Herb for their Tony nomination.

Finally a reason to watch that has-been television broadcast.

1965

Just started and, five minutes later, finished reading this book. I was suckered in by this cat being a professor at Harvard. After a mere 3 pages in I could tell that continued reading would be a waste of my valuble free time.

His ideas are perfectly cogent if this were 1965. It is sad to see people be so out of touch with the zeitgeist.

This guy is retarded...Do not read this book...It is dumb.

Happy Birthday Helvetica!

One of my favorite fonts is celebrating it's fiftieth birthday.

Congratulations on outlasting the critics that say you are boring. If we all work hard enough we can make serifs a thing of the past.

My Cultural Imperialism

Got out of work late in the day on Saturday, so I missed most of the Dance Parade. Caught up with the festivities at Washington Square Park.

I had a ridiculously horrible headache, so I was not really in the mood of a dance event. I am kind of glad that I was not in the mood as I felt like the event was not as F-U-N as it could have been (the rain from the heavens could have also been a factor).

In anticipating the parade I thought the organizers were trying to make a debaucherous event more palatable by featuring a wide variety of dance groups...cloggers, flagwavers, etc. My cynical hope was that these acts would have been a little "spice" that would accent the fact that the event was really to feature house/tech djs in an outdoor space.

Unfortunately the organizers were more sincere than I am as they really truly put the spotlight on these talented performers. Me...I just wanted a dj spinning vicious beats under a springtime sky.

There were a lot of "rave kids" there (and by kids I mean nostalgic 35 year olds) who looked like they just stepped out of auditions for Party Monster II. Although to me they were annoying...these wide-legged denizens definitely confused the tourists who normally populate Washington Square Park on the weekend.

Shout Out: Pushead

Back in the eighties Pushead was at the intersection of all that was evil and awesome.

The highly detailed graphics he created fit in perfectly with the "Fuck You" attitude of the skateboard companies, hardcore and metal bands that were lucky enough to enjoy his talents.

While many look back at the eighties and think neon colors and disposible pop music, there was also an air of dread in the ether. Nuclear war was a distinct threat and my archnemesis Ronald Reagan fostered the era of greed and me-first-ism.

Pushead's designs were technically precise and matched with an imagination that allowed the darker side of the human psyche to come forth.

Anniversary Party

Twelve years and one day after I first heard him spin and my life was literally changed, Frankie Knuckles is playing this Sunday at Cielo.

Faithful readers will understand the impact that Frankie Knuckles has had on my life.

I simply cannot wait for this party...I have been in such a weird "head-space" lately and am in desperate need of the hours and hours of truly positive music that only Frankie can deliver. I am so not worried about being tired on Monday morning as my memories will shine on long after the muscle strain fades.

International Jet Set

Lynn came into work today and was telling me of her recent trip to Milan. While it would have been super exciting for me, she relayed how boring and over hyped it was.

I love people who can walk the fine line between being cynical and being jaded.

Irreplacable Forever

Although she was only a stylist and a muse (two occupations that are sorely underappreciated) Isabella Blow had deep impact on anyone with an appreciation for over the top fashion.

It is hard to believe that she has passed at what I now think of as a young age.

They do not make them like this anymore...

The Simple Things

Got a postcard in the mail from my girl Jody. It just said she was thinking about me. I have felt so "out of it" lately that this simple sentiment totally transformed my day.

It is amazing what happens when you have awesome people in your life.

Thank you Universe.

Jealousy

Kevin came into work yesterday. He was telling me what an awesome boss Conan is. I was so jealous, as I am still contemplating smashing my boss's kneecaps for not giving me the promotion I deserved.

Shout Out: Kansai Yamamoto

We are constantly listening to Bowie at work. I think my appreciation for him is increasing daily...But you have to give love to the cats that he surrounded himself that helped manifest his "mystique"

Kansai Yamamoto was the jean-genius behind those Ziggy Stardust costumes that destroyed the general public back in the day. It is hard to imagine the Ziggy persona without those "over-the-top" designs.

Broken

I am still in "crushed spirit" mode due to not getting the promotion at work. The still raw wound is making me feel as though I have wasted a year of my life. My tendency is to try to see the positive amidst the tragedy, but this time it feels more difficult than in the past. It is especially frustrating as all the pieces were in place for this career advancement to happen. I am also bitter about how my boss informed me about his decision, but that is another post entirely.

Cain pointed out that this tendency to see " the bright side" is not always the appropriate response. As a result I have vowed to stop making lemonade when life gives me lemons...and perhaps just start hurling lemons.

Garden Party

Went around the corner to Jeremy's apartment last night to have a couple of drinks. Sat out on his private patio and chilled underneath the stars.

I am glad it was only a one-block walk home as, after only two drinks I could barely walk straight. When did I become such a light weight...truth be told it was probably also related to a week of sleeplessness and generalized mental exhaustion.

R.I.P.

Yesterday as part of my chillout process I walked down Carmine St. It was then I discovered that Vinylmania had closed.

I cannot tell you how many hours I spent in that store. When I first came to New York and was jobless, I would visit on pretty much daily basis. Coming from Nebraska I was thoroughly enamoured with the idea that there was an entire store devoted to House Music.

Every time I exited the store I had at least one or two songs ingrained in my head just from the exposure of whoever was manning the turntables at the time.

Frequently I would use the resourcefulness of the employees to learn the name of song that I had heard in a club. Picture me attempting to sing a song from a deep house diva...not pretty, but it often got the job done.

In his book, Mel Cheren talks about "the Children" leaving the Garage on Sunday morning and immediately walking over to Vinylmania to attempt to find some gem that Larry Levan had just turned them on with.

Relaxing After The Perfect Storm

Due to work commitments I have only had the opportunity to write on the weekends...unfortunately I had to take Saturday off from writing just to chill the F out.

This week was a Perfect Storm of stressors. Thanks to a situation too unnecessarily complex to explain to the uninterested layperson we have been crazy busy at work. I have struggled to keep my head above water...considering the challenges I faced I think I did a pretty good job. That being said I still had some people on the sidelines question my methods. I had to shed my nice-guy mask and totally "shut 'em down". I hate to be a bad-ass and put people in their place, but if pushed I will not hesitate.

Sometimes I feel guilty because, while they have earned my wrath, I totally come out swinging and will be relentless until I destroy them. I have often told my employees that if they treat me with respect I will take a bullet for them...but if they come at me wrong I will be merciless in crushing them. It may not be today or tomorrow but the day of reckoning will come.

Last week I sent out a company-wide e-mail praising a co-worker in a different department. This week that same co-worker attempted to "confront" me because I did not "sugar-coat" some words I had with an employee that reports to him...now I am required by my own twisted standard of conduct to destroy him...

Really?!?

I am so tired of this ridiculous weather. Forty degrees for a high on Easter...Are you kidding me?

Instead of wearing sweaters, I should be comfortably ensconced in Hot Pants by this time of year.

Pure Awesomeness

I swear to G-d that this image is not photo-shopped.

Discovered it while doing a bit of research on Glen E. Friedman.

How beautiful is it to see Chuck and Flav sporting Minor Threat threads back in the day. Imagine if Public Enemy had mashed it up with Ian Mackaye on stage...

By the way, if you have not seen Dogtown and Z-boys (in which Glen E. Friedman makes an appearance)... then your life has been pointless. It is truly awe-inspiring.

We Wear Masks

Started reading this book last night. Although it was published in the fifties it is still very timely.

It is a touch "scholarly" and I think a few of the concepts Goffman talks about are going over my head, but it is still pretty cool.

He makes the case that our every interaction is a "performance", that we play parts and wear masks with dealing with others.

Basically I think it boils down to that quote that Rupaul made famous..."we are born naked...the rest is all drag"

I think that is a pretty complete assesment of human behavior...

Good News...I'm More Blind-er!

Had to have an eye exam today. I wanted to just go in and pick up some new contacts, but I was informed that it had been more than a year and a half since my last vision test, so I had to be checked out before they could sell me some more lenses.

My prescription has not changed in at least six years so I was a little pissed that I was going to have to pay for and endure the wait for an exam.

As fate would have it my eyes have gotten 1.25 % worse since my last visit to the doctor so... a brand new prescription was in order.

Unfortunately they did not have this radical new prescription in stock, so I have to wait a week in order to see the world in all it's full gorgeousness.

Shout Out: Felix Gonzalez-Torres

Right now I am totally worshipping the work of Felix Gonzalez-Torres. His works were just so subtle and simple and perfect. So simple that in some cases it was possible to not even notice them.

In a world of artistic bombast, this is an undervalued virtue. Quiet gestures always speak louder than grandstanding.

Stop The Retardedness

My girl Ana decided to ruin my week by sending me this link. Why do these children think it is cool to destroy an iconic image. Do you think that an image becomes iconic because it is new and fresh...how about focussing on that for a change.

I know it is kind of a joke-y cliche to say...but I seriously think that Ian Curtis would roll over in his grave if he knew an image associated with Joy Division was used to sell sneakers.

Shout Out: Neville Brody

Back in the day I used to literally worship The Face magazine. I was perpetually combing local bookstores hoping that at least a single issue had arrived from London.

Of course by the time an issue came into Nebraska it was several months out of date...but that was okay as the artists and fashions featured within would not arrive in the consciousnesses of my fellow Nebraskans for years...

I used to fawn of the designs and fonts that Neville Brody would come up with. He truly created a "style bible". Everything always looked so fresh and fantastic.

Paris/Brooklyn

Just discovered that Daft Punk will be playing Keyspan Stadium August 9th. Of course that is the weekend I plan to be in Los Angeles for Abe's wedding.

Damn this luck of mine...

Adults Only

Had dinner with Cain at Bianca last night.

The food was very simple and awesome. The bottle of wine we split was great and truly needed after another high intensity week at work.

Went next door to Von for a "nightcap".

Maybe it was because Cain looked handsome still clad in his necktie from his workday. Maybe it was because I had not sat down and actually ate a "real" meal in a while...but the evening had a very "Adult" feeling to it (or maybe I am revealing my prolonged adolesence).

It just seemed to me that this is what "Adults" do...work hard, treat yourself to food prepared by someone else, have a good conversation then enjoy a night of sleep...

Into The Way Back Machine

"Boogie Nights" was on IFC so I decided to watch it again.

Reminded me of when I saw it in the theater. It was definitely my first week in New York City. I was unemployed at the time so I decided to do something "decadent" and go to an afternoon showing at the Village East Cinemas.

In hindsight I should have been more neurotic about finding a job, but because I was new to the city and my bank account seemed full I was going to the movies in the afternoon.

Sometimes those carefree days of October 1997 seem like a million miles away...

I Am A Strange Person

Example #709

Every time I put fresh sheets and pillowcases on my bed I "christen" them with a kiss...thanking them in advance for the peaceful slumber they will provide.

With my frequent dalliances with insomnia I need to cover all my bases.

Visual Madeleine

Last Saturday Cain and I were walking to Zakka to do some shopping (full disclosure...he was shopping I was looking/stealing graphic design ideas from their selection of books). As we were crossing Broadway at Grand St. and I looked over and noticed the homeless people that sell stuff on the Broadway from Grand to Houston St.

I am always intrigued at their selection of wares. One vendor may only have a Hard Rock Cafe t-shirt, an Atari videogame cartridge and baseball glove, while his neighboring vendor will be peddling a vast selection of out-dated cellphone antennae. There seems to be neither rhyme nor reason to the wares, and I wonder who the "target market" for such random items is.

Regardless, as we waited for the walk sign to turn in our favor I glanced over and noticed someone selling a navy blue quasi-velour kimono-style robe...very de riguer for suburban males circa 1979/1980. Instantly I was transported back to a circumstance I found myself in a couple of decades ago...

Cue dreamy memory sequence music...

When I was around 11 or 12 years old I "officially" inherited a paper route. I had helped my siblings deliver their newspapers for years, but then I took over a route from my brother Clay.

Other than having to get up at five in the morning to deliver the papers, the other huge downside to being a "paperboy" was having to collect the payments from the customers.

When I was around 13 I began delivering to a man named Mr. Robertson who lived about three blocks from my house. Mr. Robertson was recently divorced, his ex-wife and daughter (who was a grade ahead of me in school...ultra popular, pretty, and sweet) had moved out leaving him to become a born again bachelor at what I am guessing to be the age of 45.

While I was making my monthly rounds to collect money for the papers I had delivered, Mr. Robertson had always been very kind to me...which was not the case with many other of my clients. He was very friendly, and because I knew the situation with his departed family members I began to think sense that he was very lonely.

The first few times I entered his house I noticed that there were a few strategically placed Playboy magazines on the coffee table. A little bit odd I thought...but hey, now that he doesn't have a wife and daughter around...why not?

Then one month he answered the door wearing a navy blue quasi-velour kimono style robe. Kind of unusual for 6pm in the evening, but hey he is a "free-spirit"...

Mr. Robertson's look, I should note, was very low-rent Burt Reynolds. He was probably about 5'5" (about the same as me at the time) very skinny with a very hair chest. Maybe it was the new found bachelorhood, but his way of behaving around me was very amateur-swinger wannabe...Think Don Knotts as Ralph Furley on "Three's Company"

Anyway, so as I just mentioned he greets me at his front door wearing a robe...Then the next month he answers the door again in his robe, but this time as I enter the house his robe accidentally-on-purpose comes undone revealing Mr. Robertson in his tight bikini underwear. He makes no attempt cover himself up and I obviously not doing a very good job of hiding my curiousity...very awkward, but I am soon on my way...

The next month the exact same scenario happens regarding the accidental opening of his robe, but this time there is no tight bikini underwear seperating me from his manhood in all it's glory...

Needless to say, but one thing leads to another and....Oh, I should probably end the story right here and save some of the tawdry further details for my future memoirs (think of this post as a "teaser" for a book to be published several decades from now.)

Suffice it to say, the mere glancing in my peripheral vision on a street corner in New York City in 2007 tripped the wires in my brain to go way back in time. A simpler and sexier time.

Coincidence...Me Thinks Not

Is it just chance that six days after Geoff and I get our cocktail on at Pravda, the legends at
Paper Magazine declare it Bar of The Week. Damn I hate being so cutting edge.

Fighting The Wrong Battle

Am about 50 pages into this book and it is pretty damn awesome. Basically the author is suggesting that the political Left has abandoned the fight against economic inequality in favor of a toothless fight against "prejudice", racism and political incorrectness.

Maybe it is my working class roots, but this totally resonates with me. I am so tired of hearing that anything related to issues of class is tantamount to asking for class warfare. I am not ashamed to admit that I believe that class warfare is exactly what we need right now.

Another Product Endorsement

For Christmas last year, my sister gave me some of this cleanser as a gift. Normally I buy fragrance-free products as I do not want any scent to interfere with the Comme des Garcons odeur du jour. But this line of products is absolutely amazing.

My sister loaded me up with more products for my birthday and they are just as incredible. Totally "non-chemically" feeling...just super fresh feeling.

Due to the pricing of the product, and the fact that I am not yet a Rockefeller, I have had to resolve to only treat myself to actually using the products on my days off from work...an indulgence to take me away from the day to day struggle and nasally stimulate my mental freedom from the job.

My Dilemmas

Perfect...The day after I verbally agree to become a work-a-holic for my boss (assuming that it will pay off financially and career-wise) I find out about this party.

How am I supposed to kick-ass on Monday morning after tearing up the dancefloor on Sunday night?

I guess I will have to figure out a solution as an evening with these two gigantic talents is just too juicy to pass up. I always justify my temporary post-night-out fatigue with the fact that the spiritual benefit is so long term.

The Only Redeeming Quality of Mondays

...finding a new hard copy issue of The New Yorker in my mailbox. The antidote for the internet.

Can't Lie...

I really did nothing this weekend. After seven solid days of work and this retarded weather, I did nothing but chill out.

I had a laundry list of projects but I guess they will have to wait until next weekend. Super Doppler 3000 is already forecasting 65 degree temperatures for next Saturday, so I will probably want to be outside enjoying spring...and the tasks may still be left undone.

Roots Are Necessary

Had drinks with Geoff last night at Pravda. Wonderful conversation with a truly interesting and awesome friend...what more could a person want?

Due to both of us working too much, I rarely get to hang out with Geoff that often, which is a shame as he is rad and we always have mucho laughs.