The photo recap below is just a smorgasbord of my social life from the past few weeks and weekends.
I went to the Hudson for a hot little dance party. This old man was holding it down on the dance floor and looked geriatric'ly stylishly too. He's pretty much the model for how I want to look and do when I'm eighty-two years old.
Working out the Hustle. Moves are complicated!
Uh oh! I still got it! And then she walked away.
There's air guitar and then there's air DJing at the turntable.
The groom, the bride so classically air smacking what thieves and pirates are always tryin to take--the booty, and L Boogie.
Congrats to the new couple! I hope this photo is in their wedding album for their future kids to look and admire. "See kids, your mom and I weren't just the life of the party, we WERE the party. Now go clean your rooms."
I nominate this for the "Toothiest Smiles" photo award.
Anchor Bar on Thursday. Tze and Chris (trying his hardest to suppress a smile of joy). Nat showed up for this party as well. I mean, Natalie Portman. She prefers to be called Nat by her lovers, FYI.
Too cool for school Kenny and a ragin' Beth.
This pose might properly be categorized as fierce, but check back for a confirmation.
A rare moment where Tze is not surrounded by her legions of fans.
As this hammered girl was leaving the bar, we overheard her say "I want to go play beer pong!" Classy.
I'm predicting that someone is going to request that I remove this photo soon.
Haha
Did you kids know that if you are caught urinating in public in New York, you may face a fine of $50 to $2000?!
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yP9EFTNGUCk] Walking to the subway from the bar with Chris...We decided to create a short movie.
After this jump of all jumps, Chris realized he lost his cell phone which most likely fell out his pocket in the pile of boxes located...7 blocks away. Yea, that wasn't fun.
To celebrate the successful recovery of his cell phone, he jumped again.
The next morning I received the following IM from Chris:
Chris: dude i have cuts on my face Chris: cuts on my face from box diving Chris: and that sounds so much cooler than what it actually is
I may be grouchy at times and unable to interpret your signs, but as Billy Joel once said you took the good times, you took the bad times, and you took me just the way I am. [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YekA5eswvLw]
And here's a cover by Diana Krall that is just way too sincere:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V-a_cCBzXRg]
Have a good Easy Listening Sunday, boys and girls.
After being inert, dormant, and essentially indifferent to my musical needs for roughly 6 months, my iPod, the last edition of the iPod Photo (eg. the ones with the first color screens) is finally fully repaired and operative again. Those Apple Store geniuses are actually good for something...like fixing their deliciously designed but early death prone devices.
My friend went out recently to a bar in the Upper East Side. "Past their prime jocks" were his words to describe the crowd. He ran into a girl he knew who introduced him to the lucky Mets fan who randomly happened to be at the San Francisco Giants baseball game and even more randomly, ended up catching Barry Bond's record breaking* historic home run ball. This guy is apparently from Queens (a borough of New York City for those of you reading this and not familiar with the area), and he actually says to my friend "I am Queens Boulevard." No, you are a Queens douchebag. Quoting from "Entourage" stopped being cool after the first season, I believe.
Beverly Clearly. Ayn Rand. Dr. Seuss. John Grisham. I used to read these authors' books voraciously as a child, and although its been years since I've read their books, the mention of their names always rekindles warm memories of my youth and the delightful tales that these writers spun and wove. So I was sadden by the news today that author Madeleine L'Engle--the brilliant mind behind "Wrinkle in Time" (Ah, yea. You know wat I'm talking about! Wrinkle in Time was the shit!) passed away today at the age of 88. She possessed quite an imagination. If you haven't read "Wrinkle in Time" then do so. It's a story that's accessible to adults and children alike.
I'm currently drinking a Michelob Ultra, yup Ultra (Counting them crows, and by crows I mean calories), in her honor, memory, and literary gangsterness. Whatever you're drinking right now, pour one out for L'Engle.
Update: Apparently I'm not the only one that considers her passing big news:
Designer Slash Model [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5gazLpgp5qI]
I asked for and received an extension on my weekly Easy Listening Sunday segment this Labor Day weekend, which explains its absence yesterday. I apologize to the three readers out there, somewhere, who sat for naught on emotional pins and needles awaiting their weekly Sunday tune. I have a deep confession: I don't really like the Beatles. I know, blasphemy! Will someone out there just give me a holler or at least an 'amen' to let me know that I'm not the only one that feels this way about this British boy band from the days of yore? I do however like women, but I'm more of a one-woman sort of a guy, so to be accurate (tho' not necessarily grammatical) 'I like woman.'
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PaLfDnShEn0]
I may not like the Beatles, but I can recognize the genius of John Lennon. His song writing abilities from what I can discern with my amateur bag of musical knowledge is awesome. If given an assignment to compose a love song or poem (1), the general result would be a comedy of cliched and corny rhymes, and trite metaphors. Yes, this is a 'pop' song, one that could epitomize the easy listening genre, and consequently easy to dismiss, yet I challenge anyone to write something comparable.
1. Genres that are two sides of the same coin? Discuss.
What's the harshest way that someone can break up with another? Via text message? Sticky note? How about by writing a book about it and informing you by titling it "Getting rid of [insert your name here]?" Harsh, right? I know, mega harsh.
The only downer debbie about my immediate neighborhood is that there isn't a Duane Reade or Rite Aid nearby. I needed to get some more floss, but I didn't feel like walking 15 blocks to the nearest Duane Reade so I went to my local bodega instead. This is what I got: the most generic looking floss ever. No worries tho, I got it on lockdown: It's "Approved." It's "Waxed." And it's "Dental Floss." Or that's what I used to call her. Oh snap.
I was kind of stoked today to find a first edition paper back copy of Gideon's Trumpet (I lost a newer edition during my transition from college to...non-college) by Anthony Lewis from one of those street book vendors. He wanted two bucks, but I talked him down to one. High five people, can I get a high five? This book recounts how Clarence Earl Gideon a fifty-one-year-old white inmate "...who had been in and out of prison much of his life" with a "...wrinkled, prematurely aged face, a voice and hands that trembled, a frail body, white hair," and despite his 8th grade level education, challenged the system and brought a landmark case before the Supreme Court. The Court in a slam dunk decision led by Justice Hugo Black ultimately ruled that his right to counsel and his due process as provided by the Sixth and Fourteenth amendments respectively was violated when he was denied access to an attorney by the state of Florida (Why does Florida always seem to rob poor people of their rights?).
In our current political climate in all three branches of government I can't help but wonder how this case would be construed by politicians, the White House, and how the SCOTUS would decide Gideon's case.
Anyway, if you want a break from whatever you are reading then check out Gideon's Trumpet and edumacate yourself.
This totally undoctored photo from one of my current favorite blogs makes me laugh.
A nice essay from the San Fran Chronicle about one of my favorite magazines, Mother Jones:
The current version of Mother Jones is almost rollicking. A lot of the information is packaged in bite-size data pockets, useful koans to use in meditating on corruption, scandal and greed. In the current issue (September-October; stick figure on a blackboard cover) has a two-page bushel o' factoids written by Dave Gilson about the credit crunch.[...]
The center of the magazine still belongs to the kind of investigative reporting that Mother Jones has done so well for so long. The cover story, by Jennifer Gonnerman, is summed up in its subhead: "Eight states are sending mentally retarded and emotionally troubled kids to a facility that punishes them with painful electric shocks. How many times do you have to zap a child before it's torture?"
Rollicking is absolutely the right word for this magazine. For such an advocacy publication it's incredibly accessible, and I think this quality makes it very unique in the crowded and competitive magazine marketplace.
My commute highlights the magazine's great balance between its lengthier articles and essays and what Carroll calls 'bite size data packets.' In a 20 minute commute standing on a crowded subway train, the easily digestible fact 'koans' make for the perfect (and often amusing) reading. Reminds me of Harper's Index in a way. And on the flip side the investigative reports (Hilary's long participating in a prayer circle article is really interesting; if you haven't read it do so) and essays are deliciously consumed in my free time in my apartment.
Side Note: Is it me or does the San Fran Chronicle have some terrific writers?
[Thanks Kaizar!]
I always thought atop of Mount Kilimanjaro would be the best way to propose to that special lady friend someday, but I learned recently someone already did this. Bastard. Good thing I had a sweet alternative plan to fall back on, but dammit if this artist guy didn't already beat me to it! Looks like my future wifey is going to have to enjoy telling her friends about how I proposed to her by texting "Wil1 U Marry Me?" to the Jumbotron at Madison Square Garden during the halftime of the Knicks home opener. [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cCiThCeY2Uc]
This video of the artist guy's admittedly brilliant and rad proposal will most likely make all the single ladies that view this wet.
Wet around their eyes from tears, you disgusting, disgusting pervert.
And down there.
Sorry, I couldn't resist. I just saw "Superbad."
Disclaimer aside (1), I saw this front page article on the Times and thought, "Woa! That teacher is hot!"
Rebecca Rheinheimer, YOU are an American hero.