11 April 2007

love train

sometime last week (friday?), i was on the platform waiting for the subway. there was a guy a few people down from me and i was like, 'huh, he's pretty cute'. then he turned towards me and i realized it was someone i hooked up with about four years ago. i spent the rest of the ride trying to avoid eye contact.

today i saw emmett. i forget whether or not i ever posted the story of emmett so here's a short version
new to new york city, i was smashed around 4am on a diverted F train. i didn't understand the intricacies of late-night weekend subway madness, so i was halfway to far rockaway or whatever before i realized what was going on. i asked the conductor (emmett) for advice and we had a chat, etc. he was like a 50 year old black guy, not unlike morgan freeman. i thought he was harmless enough. but he asked me for my phone number and i felt trapped. i was actually trapped on the train. and i gave it to him. never, ever, in my wildest dreams (nightmares) did i imagine he would call me twice a day for the next month and once a day for a month after that, in spite of the fact that i only answered once, by accident. he left messages, it was horrible.

so this morning one of my worst fears was realized. after years of fearing the F train every time it pulled in (difficult when you commute on it), i finally saw old emmett's head poking out the conductor's car window this morning. ugh.

seein' things

saturday i had a belated birthday brunch with (beta) and woozy at cafe orlin in the east village. it was fantastic. check that shit out.

we then went to see black book. This movie is great. i highly recommend you watch it sometime.

later that night maj, xx and i were at local 138. there was some weird show on the tvs called "when good pets go bad", which seemed to focus primarily on elephants and giant cats misbehaving (loose definition of "pet"), but ultimately led xx and maj to mock me once again for my love of america's funniest home videos. i know it's a crap show, but nothing makes me laugh like watching people fall down. i explained this to them again and recounted a story about how i once fell and couldn't get up for 10 minutes because i was laughing so hard and then immediately burst into hysterics the next day when i recounted the story to a friend. (i was giggling even when i told xx and maj about it, three-odd years later.)

anyway, it seemed rather fitting that, on the way to the subway, i took a giant header on essex. i don't really know what happened except there was a cellar door involved and maj came over and found me lying, rather confused, on the sidewalk. as soon as i figured out what had happened, i started laughing. amazingly, i was relatively unscathed after the incident. if i'd been sober, i'm entirely sure it would have been a much worse scenario, but i only have scrapes on my palms (stigmata, just in time for easter), and one bruised knee.

so monday night west river and i managed to finagle our way into the Andrew Bird show at Union Hall. there are barely words to describe the mind-blowingness of this gig. first off, he was like three feet away from us. well, here are some pictures:

He's a funny cat, and his drummer is pretty sincerely multi-talented. he would be drumming w/one hand, looping himself with one foot, drumming with the other foot and playing keyboard with the other hand. it kinda reminded me of a musical tasmanian devil.

But old AB himself is pretty fun to watch, too. he played the first song with one shoe (red & black stripey socks, for anyone keeping track), and removed the second one shortly after finishing. the stocking feet helped with all the freaking buttons he had on the floor to loop himself and do other weird tricks. he would do the violin part first and then run back and put the violin/bow down and play the guitar for the rest of the song. he did a lot of running to and fro. and also there was a glockenspiel. fuck yeah, glockenspiel. you can see the sort of double-barreled phonograph behind him and in the picture without any people. he fed his violin through that and stepped on a peddle to make it whirl around, throwing the sound all over the place. i guess that's like a musical tasmanian devil, too. or a game of ping-pong with sound. anyway, you can see the setlist all for yourself. but i was most blown away by his whistling. it sounds ethereal on the recordings, but he can actually pull that shit off live. and it looks like he puts no effort at all into it. i don't know how he gets that vibrato kicking. and his voice is lovely, as well. excellent show, i say. he was on letterman last night, which if you missed, you should check the repeat date and dvr the shit out of it.

04 April 2007

slut search

unlike most things i hate in the world, reality tv is something i can actually avoid, so i rarely have moments when my blood boils and in a rage i scream "i cannot FUCKING believe the FUCKING human race sometimes". but rest assured, unless it's "manor house" or something akin, i think reality tv is quite possibly the saddest thing humanity has ever come up with.

and now, it seems, we've got the ultimate in complete steaming shitpile there-goes-the-neighborhood tv: the search for the next doll (unsurprisingly on CW11). what the motherfucking fuck have we come to in this place? we are seriously auditioning strippers on NETWORK TELEVISION?!

The CW's new music/reality series, "Pussycat Dolls Present: The Search for The Next Doll," is a behind-the-scenes look at the process of selecting a beautiful and talented singer/dancer who has what it takes to join one of the world's most successful performing and recording acts. Out of the thousands of gifted hopefuls who audition, only one young woman will make it through the challenges and undergo a total transformation to win her place in the spotlight as the newest member of the Pussycat Dolls. (emphasis mine)

i surrender.

the look

i don't know how long it takes, but somewhere along the way regular riders of public transport pick up a 6th sense that recognizes the guy who just walked through the doors of the train is not quite right. i was sitting reading my book and this guy comes in. first hint: rain hat--but not in this cheerful
yellow, more like the color the "i know what you did last summer" guy wears. clue two: long plastic-y trench coat. yes, i do realize it happened to be raining that day, but you take what you're given. hint three: velcro shoes. for some reason, these really are relegated to nutters and total nerds. fourth sign: fanny pack (see previous clue). all this was topped off by the guy's glasses, which were some bizarre combination of swimming goggles and sunglasses. he came and sat down in the seat perpendicular to me, made an odd face and we went back to minding our own.

but then the train slowed down and he got out some packaged eye drops. like the kind that come a dose at a time. i hope i'd be hard-pressed to find someone who thinks administering eyedrops on a train is a good idea, but this dude was all over it. obviously, he ended up with juice all over his face (wow, that sounded really dirty, huh?). anyway, he wasn't particularly offensive or creepy, there was just something off about him.

eventually a kid (college?) gets on at union square. and here's the rub: he looks at the guy, then he looks at me with a "is this dude a nutter?" face, ("mostly harmless" my brows responded) then he looks back at the guy with a "are you a nutter?" face and sits down a seat away (on the set of three) and sort of bunches himself up by the part that sticks out next to the door.

the point, uninteresting though it may be, is this, we are aware of who the crazies are, but sometimes we sit next to them anyway.

it's familiar, but not too familiar

so since i last reported anything of consequence (never?), i've been taken to Spring Awakening and a rad indonesian dinner by the maj, the traditional birthday meal at chestnut by xx, baked either the raddest or second-raddest cupcakes alive and reunited with west river to see The Long Winters.

We checked them out last night at the Hall and they really are a delightful group of guys. their music is a little on the 'i need prozac' side of things, but it turned out they are very cheery live. aside from the bassist, who really looked horribly sad to be any variation of awake, but soldiered through and played a good set. the lead singer reminded me physically of Kurt Wagner, and he was really funny and engaging. their drummer might be the smiliest person ever to sit behind a kit. the keyboardist/guitarist was cool, too. it was mostly a treat because we were literally right in front of them. they did not play "(it's a) departure" or "delicate hands", like i wanted them to, but they did play "seven", "teaspoon", "pushover", "fire island, AK" and some stuff from the albums i don't have. they have a great energy, even when they're all sick (with, according to the lead singer, the bubonic plague) and played a tight, if too short, set, including some acoustic songs with just the singer/guitarist and the near-dead bassist, a fine treat. sans encore, though, as everyone looked pretty roughed up.

NB: i have zero clue why that one section is still black and some loser font. i tried like three times and it just won't stick. we apologise for any inconvenience. ps I heart the macallun 18.